Keeping It Simple

by Ivory Piano

17. Apple Family Histories

Apple Family Histories

The wind picked up around two in the morning, and the breeze blew gently and steadily through Canterlot. A couple of hours later the breeze gained force, and dust devils spun themselves through the streets between the skyscrapers. Macintosh sat on Octavia’s balcony watching it all unfold, a pencil and sketchbook in hoof to capture the spectacle. He had been practicing Rarity’s lessons, and his skill had improved quite a bit. Not the best of course, but definitely better. However, soon he couldn’t keep the pages of his sketchbook from flipping and rustling, and so he gave up drawing altogether. By sunrise, the howl of the wind muffled every other sound in the city. It reminded Macintosh of the winds that tore through the Everfree Forest when he and Twilight and Fluttershy traveled to bring the Squall back to its home.

Macintosh shook his head, and looked up at the sky, squinting at the rising sun. He had spent the entire night sketching, thinking, and reminiscing, and he had grown sick of the latter two. He needed to do something, anything, to get his mind off things, but every time he tried to think, the rushing wind quieted his thoughts. He hummed as he looked down at the nearby trees bending slightly, the edges of a few of their leaves were starting to redden. Autumn was definitely coming, and coming soon. Well then, perhaps he could have a little fall weather fun.

Macintosh headed back inside the apartment, eager to go outside, but he stopped to look at Octavia's door. Her light was off. He sighed and ran a hoof through his mane. Sometimes it felt like the only thing he was good at anymore was being an indecisive lump of pony. He would make it up to her, that was a promise, and as he made that promise, he headed out and took the elevator down to the lobby. He still remembered the code Octavia had used to get into the apartment building. He hoped no one would mind his use of it. More importantly, he hoped no one would mind his little project.

-*-

Octavia still hadn’t woken up by the time Macintosh came back with his supplies: twine, sticks, instant-dry glue, cellophane in several colors, and other various doodads and knickknacks. He laid everything out on the table and got to work. He cut the cellophane, giving it structure with the sticks and glue, and tied the twine to the intersection of sticks. He held up the purple kite he made into the sunlight filtering in from the windows. Macintosh smiled as it made everything in his view purple. More colorful than a black and white sketch, that was for sure.

Now all he had to do was find a way onto the roof. Taking his kite, Macintosh climbed the stairs into the second story of Octavia’s apartment. It was the highest apartment, so logically there would be a way to access the roof from here. He looked around until he found a fire escape past a door in the kitchen. Macintosh climbed the metal stairs and up to the roof.

The edges of the roof were lined with a wrought iron safety fence. Ducts and snaking pipes divided the ground. Macintosh crept to the edge, the force of the wind pushing against him, and tied the twine to the gate. He let loose the kite and it immediately flew up until it was just a speck in the sky. Not bad. Not bad at all.

But he would need a couple hundred more.

The work was tedious and consisted of doing the same thing over and over again. In short, it was the perfect type of work to help Macintosh forget about his troubles. He worked with every color he could imagine, and experimented with different sizes and structures. He had no solid blueprint or framework or even an idea of what he was making. He only made kites, climbed to the roof, and allowed them to fly above, anchored to the railings and the ducts and the pipes, wherever he could find a place to tie string. After a few dozen the idea began to take shape, and once he reached the first hundred he knew what he had to do, what colors to incorporate, what positions the kites had to be in relation to each other, and the size of the overall design.

The project was a strange one, Macintosh had to admit. The tedium reminded him of the farm, and just like working on the farm, there were various aspects that needed to be considered. With this project, however, the considerations were a bit more artistic in nature. He liked it.

It took several hours to get everything the way he wanted. When everything was ready and he got it to the closest level of perfection he could, he left a note on the fire escape door urging Octavia to come up, and then he sat on the roof to examine his work. Knots of twine were tied everywhere. There were even a few kites anchored by bundles of sticks lodged into tight spaces to get the positioning right. To think he was once worried he wouldn’t have enough string.

Up above was the real spectacle, though. A great big multi-colored apple, not unlike the one that covered large portions of his backside. It was a pain in the flank get all the curves just right, but he had to say it was worth it. He just hoped Octavia didn’t mind.

The sun filtered through the cellophane, casting a gleaming, rainbow shadow on the ground below. The colors and light on the ground danced and glimmered along with the swaying kites. The refraction of light was almost like being underwater.

A door opened in the nearby distance, and the distinct tap of hooves on metal came closer. Octavia was awake. It was about time, it was almost noon. “Macintosh, why is there a crowd of ponies outside the building?” she asked as she climbed up onto the roof. She looked as prim and pressed as always, with not a single strand of her mane or tail out of place. A crisp bowtie was at her neck. She was wearing her usual frown, but this was the first time it was directed at him. “You know I don’t—“ she stopped midsentence and stared up at the kites. Her eyes followed the lines of twine to the ground below. Slowly, ever so slowly, she brought a hoof up to rub her forehead. She went up to him and sat beside him.

“You know,” Octavia said, “I would have preferred you spent your night doing something else.”

Mac smiled. “I know, but you gave me two things to think about, and I ain’t smart enough to think about those two things all at once. I had to think about whether I wanted to move in before I could decide how to spend my night.”

“Is that so?” Octavia said with a chuckle. “Then have you come to a decision?”

“Eeyup,” Macintosh said. “But I don’t think I’m real ready to tell ya yet.” He shrugged, unable to explain much further than that.

Thankfully, Octavia only nodded before changing the subject. “So why did you use your cutie mark?” she asked.

“I like it,” Mac said. “Kind of a statement, I guess. Let’s all the rich ponies in Canterlot know that I’m here.”

“Charming,” Octavia said with a smile. “But you’re missing a few details. Unsurprising since I imagine you rarely look back there. I, on the other hand, have practically memorized it.” She stood up with a yawn. “I’m going to get my cello and practice up here. While I’m gone, could you please do something about the crowd that’s forming on the street.” She went back to the stairs and headed down.

Macintosh tilted his head for a moment, and went to the edge of the roof closest to the street. Octavia was right. Down below there were a crowd of ponies packed into the street. They were all bathed in the multicolored light, and they were all looking up at what he made. They looked like jellybeans from so high up.

Macintosh chuckled to himself. He didn’t mean for his little arts and crafts project to get so large, and certainly didn’t intend for it to garner so much attention, though he had to admit that the attention certainly was welcome. Unfortunately, Octavia wanted them gone, so gone they would become. Big Mac knew of one good way to do just that, but it would take him a while.

“Big Macintosh Apple! This is your work?”

Mac jerked his head up. Fancy Pants stood at the edge of the balcony, a grin on his face. Octavia was right behind him, her face scrunched as if trying to hold back a laugh. “My...it certainly is breathtaking,” Fancy Pants said as he approached Mac. The unicorn kept his head raised to look at the kites. He almost tripped on the pipes and ductwork, but caught himself before falling. In this light, his usual white coat became a whirlwind of color. “The way the colored light shines through. The way the kites flutter and dance. And the breeze! The wind rushing past my face.” Fancy Pants released a sigh tinged with laughter. He took off his monocle, and loosened his bowtie. “Surely this is what flying is like.”

“It seems you’re rather taken with Macintosh’s art,” Octavia said. She gave Mac a quick wink.

“Yes,” Fancy Pants said, sitting down. His head swayed and rocked as he followed a kite in particular. “This has touched me as all great art does. Tell me, Macintosh, what do you call this piece?”

“Aw, well, uh,” Mac stuttered and stared at his hooves. All of this? Art? They were just kites. Colored cellophane, sticks, and some string. Heck, anyone could have done this if they wanted to.

Octavia nudged him to get him out of his stupor. “Name what you created, Big Macintosh,” she whispered to him.

“Kites,” he finally said. “It’s called Kites.”

“Remarkable,” Fancy Pants said.

Mac shook his head and put on his best smile. That was enough art talk for him. He still had a job to do, after all. “Ya know, Fancy Pants,” Mac began, “I’m real flattered that you like it so much, but it’s not done yet.”

“It isn’t?” Fancy Pants and Octavia said in unison.

“Nope. I’m actually glad you’re here. It’ll make finishing this a lot faster.” Macintosh pointed at the knot tied around a bit of pipe. “See how there’s a long trail of string after the knot? You give that a quick pull and the knot’ll loosen up and release. If you use your magic you can do ‘em all at once. How about it?”

“Release them?” Fancy Pants said, leaping to a stand. “It seems such a waste to disassemble this before everypony has a chance to see it.” He looked across the roof at all the obstacles jutting out. “Throwing a gathering here would be problematic considering all this ductwork, but we could set everything on the street below. I’m positive we could gather supplies well before the wind stops. There may be additional rush charges, of course, but—“

“Like I said, it’s not finished,” Mac said. “Sure I could leave it up, but how long will the wind last? It’s best we let ‘em go while the wind’s still strong. Believe me, that’ll be the best part.”

Octavia and Fancy Pants exchanged glances, but nonetheless the glow of magic engulfed all the hundreds of strings. Mac made sure all of the knots were accounted for, and gave Fancy Pants a nod.

The kites flew away in separate directions like smoke. Some spiraled to the ground not five feet from where they started, but the others were lucky enough to catch the breeze. They climbed higher and higher until they were just specks of color against the sky. Meanwhile, there were others that neither flew to the clouds, nor fell to the ground. These kites flew low through the streets of Canterlot, fueled by the wind funneled between the buildings. They flew the fastest.

Macintosh smiled. The whole thing reminded him of the paper darts he and Twilight had let loose months ago. Maybe he should have done it all at once. It was certainly more of a spectacle that way.

"Marvelous," Fancy Pants said, getting up on all fours. He straightened his bowtie and cleared his throat. "Macintosh, I'm organizing a private party at the art museum in a week or so. It's a very small gathering, only twenty or so ponies from the visual art circles in Canterlot. You should come."

"Aw well..." Macintosh looked over at Octavia. She waved her hoof to dismiss herself from the conversation. "I guess that would be fine," he finally said.

"Wonderful," Fancy Pants said, "I'll send the invitation by post." His horn glowed and a pocket watch levitated out of his pocket and in front of his face. "I'm afraid I must be going. I hope to see both of you soon." Fancy Pants said his goodbyes and went down the stairs.

"I'll show you the way out," Octavia said. She followed behind Fancy Pants, but Macintosh stopped her with a hoof on her shoulder. She turned to him, eyebrow raised, and Macintosh coughed and swallowed the lump in his throat.

"You know I've been thinking a lot," Mac said, unable to look her in the eyes. "I, well, my family reunion is going on today. I figure I'd go sometime in the afternoon. Would you...like to come with me?"

Octavia chuckled. "Go with you to meet your extended family? No offense, Macintosh, but I'm not one to spend an evening with—" she stopped suddenly as her eyes met his, and they stared at each other for a long time. "This means a lot to you, doesn't it?" she said.

Macintosh shrugged. "If you don't want to go then I'm not gonna force you. I just figured it'd be nice if you came with me. As a date."

Octavia smiled and stepped closer to him, and Mac's cheeks became a bit redder. "As much as you try to hide it, you're very...commitment-oriented." She sighed and brought her nose close to his. "I'll go, but I want a kiss first."

Macintosh couldn't help but smile. "Sorry, but I only kiss my marefriend."

"What happened to taking things slow?"

"I don’t know. You tell me,” Mac said with a smirk. He stepped past her and went downstairs to show Fancy Pants the way out. Octavia rolled her eyes, but followed him nonetheless.

-*-

It was late in the afternoon, almost evening, by the time Macintosh and Octavia, cello case slung on her back, stepped off the train. Macintosh figured that the reunion would be winding down by now, they usually only lasted a couple of hours after sundown. He and Octavia had spent most of the day getting ready, which mostly consisted of prepping Octavia for all the idiosyncrasies of the Apple family. Bunny suits not included. She would have to find out about that one by herself.

They walked down the empty Ponyville streets, the sound of music faintly wafting through the air. The music came louder the closer to the farm they came, and Mac could soon hear the gentle strums of a guitar and the gliding notes of a fiddle. Apple trees appeared out in the distance, and there were strings of lights wound around the branches. The smell of apples filled the air as did the tart smell of various apple drinks and apple pastries. There was a hint of orange beneath all the apples. His aunt and uncle must have dropped by as well.

As they passed through the main gate and beneath the big banner above, Macintosh remembered when Applejack said most of the members coming this year were either old-timers or young colts and fillies. Still, Macintosh was quite surprised to find so many unfamiliar young ponies running around with Applebloom and Babs. At least he still recognized all his aunts and uncles.

Applejack and her friends were nowhere to be found, which was fine by Big Macintosh. The food table stood several feet away, laden with various desserts and drinks and completely barren of other ponies. Mac pointed it out to Octavia, who brightened up when she saw it. Before they could take a single step, Mac felt a wrecking ball slam against his side, knocking him to the ground. He stopped on his back, and felt hooves on his chest.

"Well if it ain't Big Maaaaaacintosh!" Braeburn yelled out with a grin. "How ya've been ya ol' snakebite?" Braeburn's yelling managed to bring in a crowd, and by the time Mac stood up and caught his breath the entire Apple family had gathered around, Applejack included. Thankfully she stayed behind, watching the whole thing unfold. "You got skinny," Braeburn said, his grin never fading.

"Still bigger than you," Mac said. To test it, Braeburn stood shoulder to shoulder. Mac was still taller. Braeburn then stood in front of him and puffed out his chest. Mac was still broader.

"Yeah a'right now let's see what happens when we put you up with Bushel. Bushel!"

"We were the same size before I got skinny, so of course he'd be bigger," Macintosh said. “Now are you gonna keep gawking at me or are you going to invite me to a drink? It’s been a while.” Mac looked back at his relatives around him, and caught eyes with Applejack. “On second thought,” he told Braeburn, “I’ll meet you in a bit. I wanna go say hi to Applejack.”

“Sure, Ah’ll pour a drink for ya,” Braeburn said. He gave Mac a nod and headed toward a table where several stallions, Mac’s cousins, were gathered, glasses of apple cider between them. The crowd dispersed as Braeburn left. Mac would be sure to greet them later.

“If he does that to me then I can’t be held responsible for what happens to his face,” Octavia said, coming up beside him.

“Don’t mind him,” Applejack said as she walked toward Mac. She reared up and gave him a hug. “Good to see ya, Mac. Where’ve you been?” She released his neck and took a step back with a smile. Mac gulped. He had expected a little anger from her after disappearing for a night. He wasn’t sure if this was a trap of some sort.

“That was my fault, I’m afraid,” Octavia said in her sweetest voice. “I was feeling a little...under the weather, and Big Macintosh was kind enough to cheer me up. The time passed right by, and I offered Macintosh my guest room for the night.”

“That was mighty kind of ya, Octavia,” Applejack said with a smile, though Mac detected something in her tone, a little pause and a lengthening of vowels, that he was sure revealed a bit of her disbelief. Mac looked over at Octavia, if she had noticed, she didn’t let on. “Well now that yer here,” Applejack continued, the incident seemingly forgotten, “how about Ah introduce ya to the family. You already met my cousin Braeburn, so yer off to a good start. Mac, why don’t you go talk with Braeburn? Ah’m sure there’s a lot you two gotta catch up on. I’ll bring Octavia around when we’re done.”

Macintosh and Octavia shared a glance between them. Mac wasn’t so sure about leaving those two alone quite yet. There was really nothing they could discuss between themselves except for one thing: him. And usually when mares started talking about him, things ended up getting a bit...complicated. But maybe he was being too self-centered. They could talk about hundreds of other things, couldn’t they? The weather, other Apples, Applejack’s friends.

“Uh, Mac? You feeling okay?”

Macintosh blinked and came back to the here and now. Applejack and Octavia were gone, and Braeburn was looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Looks like Mac’s thoughts had run away with him yet again. He shook his head. “Yeah, I’m fine. I was just thinking too much, I guess.”

Braeburn laughed. “No offense there, Mac, but you ain’t ever been the sort to think too much.”

Macintosh nodded, and headed to the table where his other cousins waited. Braeburn walked beside him. Every so often they had to stop in order to let a group of fillies and colts pass by as they played a game of tag or chased a firefly. Mac would stare at them as they ran off and try to place them in his memory. He could only name about half of them. They reached the table after only a few stops. Surprisingly, Dash was already seated. Mac sat down beside Braeburn and quickly greeted his cousins and friend. He gave a nod to Bushel, Apple Cinnamon, Apple Bottoms, Wensley, and Rainbow Dash.

“Hey Mac,” she said, tipping her bottle of cider toward him. She had long abandoned a simple cup, choosing instead to drink straight from the glass jug.

“Howdy Dash,” he said as he poured himself a cup. “Where’s everypony else?”

“Around,” Dash said with a shrug. “Rarity’s helping out with some quilt, and Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy are frying fritters somewhere.” She gave him a shrug, and gulped down some of her cider. Mac, having only started, just sipped at his own. He allowed the silence to percolate for a bit before speaking.

“My memory must be going,” Macintosh said. “I can’t remember half of the foals running around.”

“They’re mostly nephews and nieces,” Braeburn said. “For most of ‘em it’s their first family reunion. Heck, there’s more comin’ soon. Bushel just had his first this spring.”

Macintosh choked on his cider and coughed into his glass. Braeburn patted his back, and once the fit had ceased Macintosh looked over at his cousin. For the first time, Mac noticed that his two-tone green mane was a bit more combed than it usually was. At least the part he could see beneath the hat. “You got a foal, Bushel?”

His cousin gave him a slow nod and took a deep swig from his cup of cider. “Named him Tiller, same as gramps,” Bushel said. “Back at home with the missus.”

“Congratulations,” Mac said. It was hard for him to believe Bushel was only a year older than him. “Make sure you bring him around soon. I’d like to meet my new nephew soon as I can.”

“Why do you call them nieces and nephews?” Rainbow Dash asked as she poured herself another mug of cider. “Aren’t they technically your cousins?”

“Cousins once removed,” Mac said. “For a family as big as ours we just lump everypony into aunts and uncles. Take my Aunt Applesauce, for example. She’s technically my first cousin twice removed, but we all just call her auntie.” Macintosh looked at the little ones again, focusing on his baby sister among them. Applebloom was smiling widely and talking to her new cousins, even ordering a few around. “I bet they had fun listening to all of Applejack’s stories.”

“Ha! You should’ve seen it, Mac.” Rainbow Dash said. “Once they found out the Elements of Harmony were here, they all gathered around us wanting to hear all about our adventures and stuff. And they listened to every single word we said!” She grinned wider than Mac ever saw her grin. It made him smile as well. “They even wanted to know how we each got our cutie marks.”

“Yup, they sure had fun,” Braeburn said. “Speakin’ of stories, Mac, you gotta tell me how you met that filly you were with. She your marefriend? She’s pretty, but she looks more like the city type, what with that bowtie and all. Oh hey! Speak of the devil.” Braeburn stood up and looked at a point behind Mac. Mac turned around and saw Applejack and Octavia coming toward them, along with an entourage of friends and family. Among them were Twilight, Rarity, Fluttershy, and Pinkie Pie.

Mac held back a sigh and stood up along with Braeburn to face the crowd coming his way. Octavia didn’t seem too thrilled about the display, but she still went along with it. A good sign if Mac ever saw one. Applejack stopped in front of him and gave him a grin.

“It’s official,” Applejack said, “Octavia met most everypony in the family, and a few of our cousins, aunts, and uncles decided to tag along.” She then turned to Octavia. “You already sorta met Braeburn, but here’s Bushel and Apple Bottoms and Apple Cinnamon, and Wensley. Those are our cousins, and in the back there’s Rainbow Dash. You’ve probably seen her around in Canterlot sometimes.” Each of Mac’s cousins tipped their hats or raised their drinks as their names were called, but Rainbow Dash was comfortable with a simple wave.

“A pleasure to meet you all,” Octavia said. She turned around and looked over her shoulder at the crowd. “All of you,” she said. She walked past him to sit at the table, the other ponies gathering around to do the same. She poured herself a drink, and gulped it down in a few seconds. She poured herself another and began sipping. “This isn’t nearly strong enough,” she mumbled under her breath. Only Macintosh really heard her.

Meanwhile, the other friends and family started to say their greetings to Mac. What followed was a wave of comments on how skinny he had become, and several of his cousins, aunts, and uncles stood beside him to measure themselves against the new Mac, much like Braeburn had done. Macintosh took it all in stride, and took the opportunity to catch up with the rest of his family. As he did, pockets of conversation started to spring up, and the crowd of ponies shrunk as the majority of Apple family ponies went about their own business and talk. Once all was said and done, the only ponies that remained were the Elements of Harmony, Braeburn, Bushel, Aunt Applesauce, Aunt Rose, and Granny Smith. The group of ponies settled down into the table laden with drinks and apples and apple pastries. A quiet hum of conversation bubbled in the air. Somewhere along the way Bushel had brought out a deck of cards, and he busied himself with shuffling them.

“How did meeting the family go?” Macintosh whispered to Octavia.

“Your grandmother checked my teeth,” Octavia said, expressionless.

“It’s good to see you again, Macintosh,” Rarity said as she sat next to him and poured herself a drink. “Though might I ask where you were?”

“I was at Octavia’s apartment,” Mac said. “It got late so I spent the night there.”

“Oh,” Rarity said. “I see...”

“Don’t cross your legs just yet, Miss Generosity,” Octavia said with a smirk. “While he was staying with me, Macintosh was the very model of a modern gentlestallion, much to my dismay.”

Before Rarity could respond, Braeburn called out to Mac from across the table. “You really did lose a lotta muscle there, Mac” Braeburn said with a smile. “How in tarnation do you still work on the farm? Can you still pull a plow even?”

Mac knew he was only joking, but he grimaced nonetheless. “To tell you the truth, Braeburn, I’m not working on the farm anymore.”

A harsh silence dropped on the group like a pile of bricks, and now all eyes were on Macintosh. Mac swirled his cup and took a sip and looked at all the ponies around him. He refused to say anything more, and when the silence showed no sign of ending Braeburn spoke up.

“You ain’t working on the farm anymore? But yer Big Macintosh!”

“Braeburn,” Applejack said, her eyes narrowed, “it’s not a big deal.”

“Of course it’s a big deal!” Braeburn retorted. “This farm wouldn’t exist without Big Mac.”

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration,” Twilight said, her cheeks turning a slight shade of red once the Apple family was focused on her. “Applejack, Granny Smith, and Applebloom work hard on the farm too.”

“No, Ah don’t mean—Haven’t any of ya heard the story?” Twilight shook her head along with a few others, including Octavia, and Braeburn slapped his forehead with his hoof. “Oh it’s a great story! We should get the foals over here to hear it too.” Braeburn got up from his seat and started trotting to the colts and fillies playing nearby. “Mac, start the story, we’ll be there in two shakes of Celestia’s tail.”

Mac rubbed his temple and watched as Braeburn gathered up the foals. He didn’t feel much like telling stories, and so he looked at the other Apples for a replacement. “Bushel, why don’t you tell the story. You’re better at that sort of thing,” Mac said. Bushel’s eyes widened for a split second, but he gave Mac a nod anyway. He lowered his hat over his eyes and looked down to focus on shuffling cards. He started the story just as Braeburn returned with the little ones, the older pony whispering at them to explain what was going on.

“There’s a few things you gotta understand before Ah tell ya this story,” Bushel began. “Used to be that a pony that married into the Apple family didn’t take charge of a farm. That all changed when Mac’s grandpa came around. Used to be that a mare didn’t take on work out in the fields. That all changed when Mac’s mom came around. Used to be that a family didn’t own the land they worked. The land was owned by the eldest Apple in the entire family, who made sure everything was being done properly. That all changed when Mac came around.” Bushel stopped shuffling cards and took his cup instead. He took a long sip before he continued.

“Ah remember back then, it was the first family reunion Ah ever went to. The first family reunion held at Sweet Apple Acres since...” Bushel trailed off and tipped his hat so that he and Mac could meet eyes. Mac nodded, and Bushel kept going. “Since Mac and AJ and Applebloom’s parents died.”

-*-

Little Macintosh ran through the maze of trees with a black eye covering his face. He dodged in and out of curled and raised roots. Applejack ran beside him, a smile on her face. They ran for as long as they possibly could and even a little more after that. They only stopped when Macintosh noticed there was no one giving chase. He stopped and peered past the tree trunks. Had the other two really fallen so far behind? Applejack took a little longer to realize what was happening, and after she stopped she backtracked to stand beside her big brother. She, as well, tilted back and forth and propped herself on the very edge of her hooves to see past the trees.

"Where the heck did Braeburn and Bushel go?" Mac vocalized what was on both their minds. Applejack only shrugged, and the pair retraced their steps to look for the missing ponies. After walking past about a dozen or so trees they finally found their cousins, only about a couple of yards away from where the game had started. The two earth ponies were too busy gawking at the trees around them to notice Macintosh and Applejack come up to them. Macintosh nudged Braeburn's side, only then did Braeburn pay any attention.

"What's the matter with you?" Macintosh asked. "Don't they play tag where you come from?"

"Yeah," Braeburn said, "but your trees. They're all dead."

Macintosh looked back at the line of trees, bark dark and dry and branches that looked like cracks across the sky with not a leaf on any of them. "Yeah so? They're just trees."

"But, yer Apples, right? Can Apples even be Apples without an apple farm?" Busel asked.

Applejack gave her brother an inquiring look. She wanted to know as well. "Apple is just a name, dummy," Mac said, spitting into the dirt. "Don't mean every Apple is an apple farmer."

"Isn't that a bad thing, though?" Braeburn asked.

"The only bad thing that's come from it is you two asking a bunch of stupid questions. You gonna play tag or not?"

“Applejack, Little Macintosh,” a voice called out. The four foals looked over at Granny Smith coming toward them. “C’mon now, it’s time for ya to meet the rest of the family.”

Mac snorted, but followed Granny Smith, Applejack, Bushel, and Braeburn back toward the homestead where most of the family were spending their time during the reunion. Mac had thought he had met the entirety of the Apple clan at all the past family reunions, but that wasn’t the case. Turns out there were several dozen more, and they all decided to come to this reunion. Mac had no idea why.

“Ain’t it great, Mac?” Applejack asked as she slowed down beside him. “Ah never knew we had a really big family.”

Mac spat on the ground and glared ahead at the huge group of ponies coming into view. He said nothing.

Little Macintosh stood at the edge of the group of fillies and colts while Applejack met every single one of her cousins. They shared stories about their home and school lives and chattered away. The conversation was light and carefree and punctuated by smiles and laughter. Mac didn’t give much interest, he was too preoccupied glaring at the front of the barn where the adults were in their own group, talking in obvious whispers as if scared one of the little ones might hear. He knew those whispers, he knew those quick sideways glances in his direction. They were deciding something.

“Hey, Mac, what’re ya lookin’ at?” Braeburn said as he came up to stand beside him. He gave a quick look to the adults but didn’t seem to understand.

“Just wonderin’ what the heck they’re saying,” Mac said.

“Oh that? They’re probably talkin’ about how my grandpa’s gonna take this farm and sell the land to pay off the debt on—” Braeburn covered his mouth before he could finish. “Oh no, I wasn’t supposed to say anything!” he cried. “My parents are gonna ground me for sure.”

Little Macintosh shook his head with a roll of his eyes, but before he could say anything Applejack quickly piped in. “They’re gonna sell the farm?” she asked, her eyes starting to water. “They can’t do that. This is where we live. This is our home.”

“Will ya quit yer cryin’,” Mac said. “It’s just a farm.”

“Just a farm?” Bushel chimed in. “But it’s your farm, ain’t it? Ah mean, yer the oldest stallion and all. You sayin’ you don’t even care if Uncle Moonshine gets rid of it.”

“Like Ah said, Bushel” Mac said with a scowl. “It’s just a farm. It’s just some dirt and some trees. Y’all might be fine with spending the rest of your life growing apples, but Ah’m not.”

“But,” Applejack said, “what about our home?”

“Home ain’t where you are, it’s who you’re with,” Mac said. “So long as me, you, Granny Smith, and Applebloom are together what’s it matter where we end up?” As he finished speaking, Mac saw movement at the corner of his eye and realized the Braeburn was hanging his head as if he had done something wrong. “Braeburn?” Mac said, his eyes narrowing.

Braeburn shook his head. “Nuh-uh, if Ah say anymore my grandpa’s gonna make me work ‘til—”

“Braeburn!”

The colt flinched at his name and wouldn’t meet Mac’s glare, but he talked anyway. “G-grandpa was sayin’ how there’s only room on our farm for one, so he’s gonna put ya to work while the rest of yer family stays with some other relatives.”

Mac didn’t need to hear anymore. Without another word he left the homestead porch and headed for the group of adults. Curious, the other colts and fillies followed slightly behind him. They whispered quietly to themselves, speculating on what was going to happen next.

The children and adults both stopped their whispers as the two groups merged. Mac looked over the assemblage in order to look for Moonshine Apple. He finally saw him beside Granny Smith, toward the center of the cluster of ponies. The old stallion was a spitting image of Braeburn, but bigger and tougher with a lot more wrinkles. Technically, Moonshine was Mac’s third cousin, or cousin twice removed. In the Apple family, however, he was simply known as Old Uncle Moonshine. The only ponies that didn’t call him that were his children and grandchildren. Mac approached and passed by his aunt and uncle Orange, Aunt Applesauce, Aunt Rose, and a dozen other aunts and uncles Mac only mildly knew. Moonshine set his emerald eyes on the colt.

“You look like ya got somethin’ to say to me, boy,” he said when Mac stopped in front of him. “You best say it.”

“Get off my farm.”

-*-

“Big words for a small colt I would imagine,” Octavia said as she poured herself a stiff glass of cider.

“Mac’s words always been bigger than ‘im,” Granny Smith said with a laugh, almost a cackle. “Ya shoulda seen the look on ol’ Moonshine’s face, looked like he just got bit by a skunk. Ain’t nopony ever talk to him like that, except maybe Mac’s grandpappy.” Granny Smith rubbed her chin. “The two of ‘em look almost exactly the same now that Ah think about it.” Granny Smith tilted her head from side to side, humming in thought all the while. “Now y’all wait here a moment while I go fetch some memories.” The old mare stood up and walked back to the farmhouse, and the others watched her go in silence.

“I don’t get it,” Applebloom said, “what was so special about Uncle Moonshine?”

“He was an elder, an’ ya gotta respect yer elders, don’t you know that?” Braeburn said with a teasing smile to the little filly. “My grandpa Moonshine was the last of the old stallions of that generation. Along with Mac’s grandpa and Bushel’s grandpa, those three ran everything.”

“An’ they ran a tight ship!” Aunt Applesauce added in with a hoot. “Oh y’all shoulda seen it. They had every stallion in the family up before dawn, working their farms for a whole day or more. Oh if only they had colts instead of fillies, things would’ve turned out a lot different, Ah tell ya.” She nodded her head, and looked over at Bushel. “You gonna do the same with little Tiller? Wouldn’t be right to have yer granddad’s name on a soft colt.”

“Tiller’ll do what he wants,” Bushel said, taking a drink. “Ah’ll make sure of it.”

Aunt Applesauce shook her head with a click of her tongue. “Ah swear, there are less and less Apples takin’ care of farms with each generation. Soon enough we’re gonna have a bunch of landowners that hire on other ponies to do the work for ‘em. Then where’ll we be? Fat and lazy do-nothings with too much money.” She waved a hoof at Braeburn to catch his attention. “What about you, Brae? You gonna work yer foal when you finally get around to gettin’ one?”

“Aw well, uh,” Braeburn stuttered, almost speechless for once. “Well, heck, Ah’d sure hope he, or she, would like bein’ an apple farmer, but Ah ain’t gonna force the kid.”

“Can’t say Ah’m surprised,” Aunt Apple Rose said with a sigh. The old mare fidgeted with her pink mane before continuing. “Ain’t like Bushel and Braeburn and Mac were asked to be apple farmers.” Apple Rose took off her glasses in order to rub her old eyes with a hoof.

“Ah’m glad we only had fillies,” Granny Smith said as she joined everyone back at the table. She dropped a heavy book on the table, rattling the cups and plates of food. She opened it up and flipped through the pages, and Mac saw the various photos inside. A curious smile crossed Granny’s lips as she stared, glassy eyed, at those old photos. “Ah don’t even wanna think about what hardship Cedar, Tiller, and Moonshine would’ve put ‘em through. But they loved their daughters more than anything. Cedar sure did. It’s a shame he died when she was just a filly. Here ya go. Take a gander at this picture.”

She twirled the book around and allowed it to lay flat on the table. Everyone surrounding the table leaned in to have a better look. The young ones practically climbed onto the table to get their view. The picture Granny Smith pointed to was a black and white photo, it’s sides worn and tearing. It was of three stallion, each of them giving the camera a tired frown. They stood in front of a row of trees laden with apples, ready to be picked.

“Hey it’s Mac,” Dash said. “Wow, Mac, you must’ve been having a really bad day. You look like you’re about to buck some poor pony. And there’s Braeburn and Bushel.”

“That ain’t Mac,” Applejack said. “That’s our grandpa Cedar, and that’s Uncle Tiller, Bushel’s grandpa, and Uncle Moonshine, Braeburn’s grandpa.”

“My it’s quite a startling resemblance,” Rarity said. “Was Cedar by any chance the same shade of red?”

“Sure was, but y’all should see this.” Granny Smith said. She reached over to the book and flipped forward a couple of pages, and stopped at a color photo of an adult mare, tall and slender, with a red coat, orange mane and tail, and bright green eyes. She wore a harness around her neck and smiled warmly at some distant point outside the four sides of the photo.

“What happened?” Rainbow Dash asked. “Did Mac run into some Poison Joke or something.”

“No, that’s mom,” Applejack said.

“She’s so pretty,” Fluttershy said quietly.

“And taaaall,” Pinkie Pie added.

“Oh but she was even stronger,” Granny Smith said with a proud smile. “She could go hoof to hoof with any of her cousins, whether it was bucking apples offa trees or pulling a plow through a field.”

Applebloom didn’t say anything, but brought the photo album toward her and took a long hard look at the photo. She placed a small hoof on the glossy surface. “What was mom like?” she asked, and everyone fell into silence. Even Granny Smith didn’t know exactly what to say. It was difficult for Mac as well. He had several memories of his mother, perhaps more than Applejack, yet none of them quite captured the entirety of his mother. How could they? How could any fading memory perfectly capture any pony?

“Bushel,” Mac finally said. “Have I ever told you the story of how I got that black eye?”

“Don’t recall so,” Bushel said. “You tellin’ it now?”

“Eeyup,” Mac said. He fiddled with his glass, rolling it between his hooves. “It happened at school. One of my classmates pulled the fire alarm as a joke, I guess. He blamed me for it, and seeing as how nopony thought I was too bright and seeing as how I was seen as a troublemaker, well, everypony believed him. I got in trouble for it. I confronted him about it the next day. We yelled, I pushed, he bucked me in the face and I...”

“I bet you sent him to the hospital,” Dash said with a grin. “Right?”

“If it had happened a year before then I probably would have,” Mac said, looking at his empty glass, “it wouldn’t have been the first colt I ever sent to the infirmary. The last time it happened mom was pretty angry at me.” Mac allowed just the hint of a smile to cross his face, but it vanished almost immediately. “I remember it really clear.”

-*-

Little Macintosh walked home with a black eye and his mouth carved into a scowl. He kept his head low as he walked down Ponyville’s main street. Only a few stragglers could be found at this time of day, most ponies already home from school or work. The few ponies that walked down the street politely got out of his path. Once out of Ponyville the walk was a solitary one, and he enjoyed it that way.

The low rumble of metal digging into dirt filled the air and shook the ground beneath Mac’s hooves. He followed through the apple trees to the farmstead to a field just a few yards from the front door. A red mare dragged a rusted plow across the hard ground without any outward effort showing. She walked, and the plow and dirt seemed like an afterthought. Macintosh used his hoof to make a groove in the ground. He approached his mother only after taking a deep breath to prepare himself.

He kept his head down. When he was feeling so small, he couldn’t bare to look up at her. Granny Smith had told him about her meeting with Princess Celestia. She always commented on how tall the princess was, taller than his mother even. Mac never believed her. No one could be as tall as her. His mother was even taller than his dad, and everyone looked up to meet his eyes.

“What’s wrong, Little Macintosh. Why are you home so late?” she said. She unhitched herself from the plow, and adjusted the harness around her neck.

He didn’t answer her. Instead, he shrugged off his backpack, opened it, and pulled out a piece of paper from inside. He dropped it to the ground and pushed it toward his mother, and she looked over the numbers covering its surface.

“An F?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at the test. “All these answers are right. How did you get an F?”

“Ah didn’t show my work,” Mac said, rubbing his eyes with a foreleg, “so the teacher figured Ah cheated and failed me. Ah asked him if there were any other fillies and colts that got ‘em all right. He just got mad and gave me detention. That’s why Ah’m late.”

“Now why would your teacher do a thing like that? I’m sure if you just go to him tomorrow and explain he’ll—”

“He won’t do a thing!” Mac shouted with a shake of his head. “He thinks Ah’m dumb. Everpony at that school thinks Ah’m dumb.” He stomped his hooves and whipped up a cloud of dust. It was the only thing he could do with his anger. “And because they think Ah’m dumb they think Ah’m bad. So whenever something bad happens everypony blames me. When Sunny pushed me and Ah pushed back, Ah’m the one that got blamed for the fight. Whenever Ah get the right answer they think Ah cheated, and whenever Ah get the wrong answer they call me ‘stupid’.” He gritted his teeth and turned to the direction he came from—the direction of the school—and yelled at the top of his lungs. “Oh yeah, well, Ah hope they skip to their parents and say ‘Ah’m smart, Ah’m smart, Ah’m smart’, and they go through their lives readin’ books an’ talkin’ nonsense. ‘Cause when they die the world’s gonna forget all about ‘em, and when Ah die the world’s gonna remember me, and it ain’t gonna be because Ah was dumb.”

For several minutes the only sound came from Mac’s winded breathing. He fell to his stomach, disturbing more dirt and picking up more dust, and stared off into nowhere.

His mother rubbed his back softly. “You want them to hurt.”

“Yeah,” Mac said. “Ah want them to hurt. Ah want them to hurt as much as they hurt me.”

She rested beside him, and wrapped her foreleg around him in a hug. “Little Macintosh,” she whispered, “That’s no way to live a life. You keep holding on to that grudge, holding on to all that hurt, it’s just going to eat you from the inside out.”

“So what do Ah do?” Mac asked, leaning on his mother.

“Forgive them.”

“Ah can’t do that!” Mac said, standing up and taking a couple of steps away from his mother. “Why should I? They don’t deserve it.”

“You’re not forgiving them for their sake,” she said, unmoving, “you’re forgiving them for your sake. In your life there’ll be ponies that hurt you. Some on purpose, some on accident, and some while trying to help you. That’s never going to change. If you hold on to every single wrong they’ve done you, then you’re never going to move forward.”

Mac stared at the ground, thinking, but ultimately shook his head with a sigh. “Ah don’t think Ah can.”

“I know, Little Macintosh,” she said. “It’s a hard thing to do. It’s probably the hardest thing you’ll ever do. It might even be impossible.” She gestured for him to reclaim his spot beside her, and he did so. “But try. Always try.”

Mac rubbed his eyes. “Ah guess Ah will.”

“Good,” she said. “And Macintosh?”

“Uh-huh?”

“One day, you’ll learn that the hardest pony to forgive is yourself.”

Little Macintosh didn’t quite understand what she meant, but before he could really think about it, the sound of running hoofsteps and a small voice interrupted him.

“Hey, big brother!” Applejack said as she climbed between the two, which effectively meant that she was on top of both of them. “Why’d you come in so late?” she asked Mac.

“Oh, well,” Mac said, quickly coming up with an excuse, “Ah was playin’ tag with all my friends at the park.”

“Again?” Applejack asked. “You sure play with them a lot!”

Macintosh forced himself to chuckle. “Eeyup.”

-*-

"I really tried to forgive and let go,” Mac said. “So I ran that day of the family reunion, instead of getting into another fight. When I was a colt I really thought that was what I was doing, but looking back I think I was still bottling up all that anger. I guess I stink at taking advice from other ponies.” Mac chuckled softly, and poured himself another drink as he avoided eye contact with the ponies at the table. “Anyway, I don’t know if that really answered your question, Applebloom.” Mac smiled at his baby sister, but she went back to staring at the photo.

“She sounds like she was a very wise pony,” Twilight said.

“She knew the ways ponies felt,” Granny Smith said. “She knew what they needed to hear just by lookin’ at ‘em. I remember times when Applejack and Big Macintosh would get into terrible fights against each other. She’d never pick a side, but explain to each of them what the other was feelin’. That was enough for ‘em to work somethin’ out.”

Macintosh looked over at his cousin. “Why don’t you go on with the story, Bushel.”

Bushel nodded without hesitation and cleared his throat to continue. “Ah remember Granny Smith was none too happy about how Mac was talking to his elder, and after getting over the shock of some little colt talkin’ to ‘im like that, Moonshine seemed a bit more...fired up Ah think.”

-*-

“Little Macintosh Apple,” Granny Smith said, “now Ah know we taught ya better manners than that!”

Moonshine chuckled, his eyes almost glinting. “It ain’t yer farm, little one. If ya can even call it that anymore. Gotta admit, though, Ah like yer nerve.”

“Yeah?” Mac spat. “Well Ah don’t like how some stranger’s comin’ in and tellin’ us what to do with our farm.”

“Ah ain’t no stranger,” Moonshine said with a scowl, “Ah’m yer—”

“Uncle, yeah, that’s what Ah hear. That’s what Ah hear about all of ya,” Mac’s voice became louder as he circled around to look at all the members of the Apple clan surrounding him. “Ah hear that yer my aunts and uncles and cousins. All Ah know is that Granny Smith says yer family, and if that’s true then some family you turned out to be. Didn’t even come to my mom’s funeral.”

Moonshine Apple was visibly taken aback by Mac’s words, but his shock was soon overcome with anger. His eyes narrowed at the small colt, and he took a few steps toward him to make the difference in size very clear. “Yer mom died at the height of Applebucking Season. We all had farms—”

“Oh sorry,” Mac growled, “Ah didn’t realize that you cared more about some fruit than yer own kin. None of ya have done a damn thing for me or my sisters or Granny Smith, now yer comin’ in and taking away the only thing we got left? No, that ain’t how it works. This is our farm, and we decide what’s gonna happen to it.”

“Ah figure Braeburn spilled the beans,” Moonshine said with a slight smile, but it soon turned back into a hard frown. “You got some pretty words, boy, but the time to say ‘em was a year ago when yer parents died. Here’s how it works. If yer gonna own something you gotta take responsibility for it. You think you can neglect the farm, let yer harvest rot on the ground, and then say it’s yours soon as another pony takes it? No, boy, this ain’t yer farm. This is the Apple clan’s farm, and now Ah gotta do what’s best for all of us. That means sellin’ the land for what it’s worth and usin’ the money to pay off what debt it can.”

Macintosh gritted his teeth. As much as he hated to admit it, the old stallion was right. “And what about us?” he asked, unable to offer a rebuttal.

“You’re family,” Moonshine said, his expression softening a bit, “and family takes care of each other. Granny Smith and yer sisters are gonna stay with Aunt and Uncle Orange for a spell. Just until we find a permanent home for ‘em to stay.”

“And me?”

“Hate to say it, but this land ain’t worth what yer family’s got into it. Ah’ll pay the difference, but yer gonna work on my farm ‘til you pay me back.”

“What?” Mac snarled. “So Ah don’t get the land, but Ah get the debt? That’s what ‘takin’ care of family’ means to you?”

“Ah’m teachin’ ya a valuable lesson about the Apple family,” Moonshine said, turning and stepping away from the colt. “An Apple always pays back his debts.”

Macintosh shook his head, trying his hardest to think of something, anything, to get him out of this. He refused to resign himself to indentured servitude for a debt he didn’t create. He refused to work on a farm for the benefit of a stranger. If he knew it would come to this, he would have worked to care for the farm before it became barren. At least then he would be working for his family. Like a spark, an idea came to him. “Yeah? Well Ah know somethin’ else about the Apple family. They can’t resist a bet. So Ah bet Ah can make this farm grow again.”

Moonshine Apple stopped in his tracks and didn’t move for a few long seconds. Then he began to chuckle, softly at first but soon louder and louder. He faced the little colt again and shook his head. “This farm is dead. There’s nothin’ you can do now but plant new trees, and you ain’t got the money. Give it up, boy.”

“If it’s dead, then you got nothin’ to worry about. Ah bet Ah can make this farm grow again. If Ah lose, then Ah’ll work on yer farm until Ah’ve paid back triple what you used on the debt. But if Ah win, then not only do Ah keep the farm, but you gotta pay me triple the debt.”

Moonshine’s smile turned into a grin, and the glint in his eye returned. “Alright, you got a bet, boy. Ah’ll even go easy on ya. At the end of the day Ah’ll be taking Granny Smith, Applejack, and Applebloom to yer Aunt and Uncle Orange’s place in Manehattan. We’ll be stayin’ there for a month. You got that one month to make something, anything, grow on this land. Deal?”

“Deal,” Mac said, gritting this teeth. “And when Ah win this bet, Ah swear Ah’m gonna take yer money, sell this farm, and get as far away from this joke of a family as Ah can get.” He turned to hide his face and watering eyes and ran off with much to do and precious little time to do it in.

-*-

“Ya’ll can probably guess who won the bet,” Bushel said. The stallion tilted up his hat and squinted up at the reddened sky. His gaze lowered to the barn not too far away. The same one that nearly the entire Apple family helped build and raise. There were now brown little specks where the paint had started to peel. “Ah remember Little Mac foraging through all that junk in the old barn until he found an’ ol’ plow blade. He used a few rocks and his hoof to shape it into a cup, you remember that, Mac?” Bushel asked.

“Eeyup,” Mac said. “The faucets were rusted shut, so I had to use it to bring water from a pond about a third of a mile away. Held just the right amount of water. Not too heavy, not too light.”

“The family left that night like we always do,” Braeburn said. He brought the edge of his hoof on the brim of his cup, and tipped it over. Breaburn chuckled. “Y’all shoulda seen Mac a month later when we came back, an’ boy do Ah mean we. Word got around about the bet and the whole family came to see if Mac managed to grow anything.”

“There was a rainstorm the previous night, and Macintosh was on the ground, covered mane to hoof in mud,” Applejack said. “Right above him was a green apple, so heavy it bent the branch it was on. Big Mac was up by the time me, Granny Smith, Applebloom, and Moonshine came up to him. He stared Moonshine square in the eye an’ said ‘Get off my farm.’”

Big Macintosh poured himself another drink, the slosh of liquid echoed throughout the silent farm. The bottle ran out when his cup was only half full, but he held it up to allow the last few drops to fall away from the lip. Satisfied, Mac slid the bottle back toward the center of the table, lifted his glass, and drank from his glass with slow gulps. He didn’t lower his cup until it was empty again. He brought down his glass with a calm thud, and looked at his family and friends gathered around the table. He tried to avoid all the eyes trained on him. Twilight’s look was perhaps the worst, as if she was reading a book with some unintelligible cyphers she was attempted to decode. Though he supposed that Fluttershy’s hurt-puppy gaze was a more sorry sight.

“So what happened during the month?” Fluttershy asked.

“Ah don’t rightly know,” Bushel said. He slipped a hoof beneath his hat to scratch behind his ear. “Mac hasn’t told anypony about that, far as Ah know.”

“It ain’t much of a story,” Mac said, pouring himself another glass. “Walked back and forth between the pond and the orchard over and over again. Hardly slept, and ate oats when I felt hungry.” That was, of course, a mostly accurate description of what happened. However, there was one incident during the final day that Mac didn’t feel like going into, especially not in front of such a large crowd of ponies, even if they were his family and friends. And so it remained unmentioned.

“Macintosh,” Twilight began, “I had no idea—“

“You couldn’t,” Macintosh interrupted, “very few ponies outside the family know this story. So I hope you appreciate listening to it now.”

“But it must have been difficult for you,” Twilight said.

“Course it was difficult, it’s life. No reason to pay any special attention to mine,” Mac said. He retrieved another bottle and poured himself more cider, and Octavia held out her glass for him to refill. He did so.

“Ya have to understand,” Aunt Applesauce said. “Times were a lot harder back then. Settling down and startin’ a farm is one thing, keepin’ that farm goin’ is another. Every Apple was strugglin’ to stay afloat. Cedar, Tiller, and Moonshine knew well enough that the only way the entire Apple family was gonna survive was if they all did what was best for the entire family. If that meant sellin’ off dead land then...”

“There’s no point in justifying it now,” Octavia said. Her voice was sweet but her glare was not, and given old Applesauce’s poor vision, the old mare paid mind to one but not the other. Everypony else, at least those with better vision, made sure to look away in case Octavia focused her eyes upon them. It caused a heavy silence, and Mac felt himself quite enjoying her ability to make so many ponies uncomfortable at the same time. But he knew it couldn’t last, and so he was the first to break the quiet that had enveloped the farm like a fine mist.

Mac’s eyes fell on the foals, including his little sister, that had listened to the story intently. They were exempt from the weight of the story, having the substance of any old fairy tale for them. Now that it was over, however, the younger ones grew restless.

“Why don’t you foals get back to your play,” Mac said. “No reason for ya to listen to us old ponies reminisce about the old times.” They happily obliged, and ran off to capture firefly’s and other small quarry. The older ponies watched them go, their world-weary regard lingering for a length proportional to their age.

Only Applebloom was hesitant to go, mostly because she still held the photo album in her hooves. No doubt she had more questions. Why wouldn’t she? Mac certainly didn’t provide any real answers. Eventually she nodded to her older brother, closed the album, and placed it back on the table. Mac brought the old book toward him, resolving to bring it back to the farmstead to indulge in a little nostalgia later.

“Remind me never to make a bet with you, Macintosh,” Octavia said with a chuckle. “I am honestly surprised that you didn’t go through with your plan of selling this place, all things considered. Did you change your mind because you thought it would be a wise investment?” She sipped from her own glass.

“You already know why, I take it,” Mac told her. “But I’ll tell you the whole story anyway, if no one minds.” Macintosh looked at the ponies still sitting around the table. Not one of them shook their head or gave any other sign that they were tired of stories about him, so Macintosh continued. “It was the same day that Moonshine and the rest of the family came to check how I did. It was a pretty important day, now that I think about it. It was the day I won this farm and the day I got my cutie mark.”

-*-

The Apple family had all left a while ago, right after Mac and Moonshine had discussed the terms of payment. Moonshine would pay off the debt straight off, but the rest would be paid directly to Mac in installments, and Mac had given the very first chunk of bits to Granny Smith to buy some decent food. After congratulating Mac for his win, Granny Smith and Applejack headed inside the farmstead to make a grocery list. Mac stayed outside, still covered in mud now drying and caking onto his coat, and stared up at the green apple he had grown.

It wasn’t enough that he had the farm and Moonshine’s money. Not even close. If he were to derive any sort of joy from this ordeal, it would be by eating that apple. It would prove once and for all that he had triumphed over not only his so-called family but the farm as well.

Little Macintosh turned his back to the tree, and with a quick buck kicked the trunk with both back hooves. The tree didn’t so much as shiver. With a growl, Mac tried again and again, but he always had the same result. Nothing. With one final yell of frustration, Mac turned and bashed his head into the trunk. It did the trick, and the apple fell on his back and bounced to the ground. With a smile, Mac held its stem between his teeth and trotted back to the farmstead.

First, he was gonna slice it up into little pieces, then he was gonna eat each one of them slowly to really savor the taste, and then he would do everything in his power to stomach down the core, stems and seeds and all. That’s what he would do. He’d eat the whole damn thing, the last apple he’d ever eat for the rest of his life. He’d go through life eating other fruits for a change. Maybe bananas.

He entered the kitchen where Granny Smith was looking through all the empty cupboards, cabinets, and drawers. Every so often she would tell Applejack to jot down some food or ingredient, and the little filly would eagerly write it down in her messy, barely legible scrawls. Applebloom was currently toddling around the floor, looking for something to chew on in order to soothe her teething gums.

Macintosh didn’t bother them. He placed the apple on the table and started looking through the utensil drawer for a knife as big as his resolve. He didn’t find one, so instead he grabbed the biggest knife they had, a large chef knife kept nice and sharp. He grabbed the handle in his teeth and placed it beside the apple.

“Wow it’s huge!” Applejack said as she examined the apple. “Ah bet it’s gonna be delicious.”

“You’d win that bet, and Ah’m gonna enjoy every single bite,” Mac said with a smile. He raised the knife and slowly brought it down so the point touched the stem, the very edge of the knife ready to cut the skin and the fruit beneath. A low growling sound stopped him. He looked over at Applejack, hunched over with her forelegs crossed over her stomach.

“You hungry, sugarcube?” he asked.

“She hardly ate when we were at the Oranges’ place,” Granny Smith said. “She was worried sick about ya.”

Macintosh lifted the knife away from the apple, and looked at his little sister. He pushed the apple toward her. “Here. You have it,” Mac said.

“Ah can’t,” Applejack said as she pushed the apple back. “It’s your apple.”

“Ah’ll just buy another one.”

“No!” Applejack said. “You grew it, so you should eat it.”

Macintosh rolled his eyes and took the apple. “Would you at least eat half of it? Ah wanna give you half of it.” He looked at his sister and she looked at him. Slowly, she nodded her head, and Mac cut the damn apple in half with a smile on his face. He pushed Applejack’s half toward her, and she finally took it. She bit into it and had it finished in just four bites, seeds and all. When she was done, Mac slid his half toward her as well. “Here, now eat this half.”

“Ah said no, big brother!” she said, glaring at him. “It’s yer apple that you grew, it’s special, and you should have some of it.”

Mac shook his head, utterly exasperated. He was ready to say anything just to get her to eat “Look, just eat it. One day this farm’ll have more apples than we can count, when that day comes then you’ll pay me back with an apple that you grew. Deal?”

Applejack looked at the apple, and her stomach growled again. “Deal.” She ate the rest. Satisfied, Mac stepped away from the table and headed out.

“Where you going, Mac?” Granny Smith asked.

“Ah got some work to do,” he said. He went out the front door and stood on the porch for a minute. He looked out at the barren apple farm and shook his head at his sister’s ridiculousness. So what if the apple was one he grew? That didn’t matter at all. Not one bit.

Right?

If he were to be truly honest with himself, he had to admit that giving Applejack an apple that grew with his hard work felt a lot better than giving her just any old apple. He wondered if this is how his parents felt whenever he and Applejack would eat the apples they had grown. It was a nice feeling, a warm feeling. One that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Macintosh walked off the porch and went to the barn where the family kept all the old junk and doodads. He opened both doors wide, letting the summer sun bathe the interior with light. The plow shined in the middle of the hay-littered room, it’s blade glinting in the dusty sunbeams.

The past month had been hell, but seeing Applejack eat the apple that came from it made it all worth it in the end. Macintosh didn’t think bringing this farm back to life would be any easier in the coming months, perhaps years, but if it was for his family, then it would be worth it.

Maybe this stupid old farm was worth keeping after all.

A flash of light filled the room and Mac felt a tingling at his backside. When he looked at his flank he saw a big green half-apple covering most of it. Little Macintosh rolled his eyes. Well, at least it was official now. He went over to a tool cabinet and grabbed an old carving knife his dad kept. In the back corner of the barn, he retrieved a block of wood left over when the barn was first built. He looked up and saw his mom’s harness hanging on a nail on the wall. He got to carving.

-*-

“It was tough going at first,” Macintosh said as he looked at the setting sun. “Ain’t easy to replant and regrow an entire orchard, but Moonshine’s money was more than enough to do it. I just had to do all the work. As time went on I really started to enjoy farming. It gave me plenty of time to think, and there was a sort of peace that came along with all the work. It made me happy, and soon I was working the farm for myself as much as my family.”

The world was silent for a few moments, and Big Macintosh enjoyed it. Nothing but the distant buzz of cicadas could be heard for a long while. A couple of whippoorwills called to each other amidst the trees. It really was an idyllic night, the kind he would sorely miss.

“Hey Mac,” Applejack said, knocking Mac out of his thoughts for a moment. His little sister grabbed a red apple from the basket in the middle of the table and balanced it on her hoof. She rolled it toward him. He stopped it and stared at it for a moment before looking back at her. “We made a deal, right?” she said with a smile. “’Bout time Ah pay it up. Fresh picked this morning.”

Macintosh smiled. He took the apple and split it in half with his hooves. “Hope you don’t mind if I share it,” he said. “It just came to mind that Octavia never had an apple straight from the farm unless it was in a pie.” He gave one half to Octavia. She held it and stared at it before staring at the gathered ponies at the table. She shrugged and bit into it. She smiled as soon as she had a taste. “Y’all better have some too,” he told the others. “Applejack worked real hard to grow these. It’d be a shame if ya didn’t have at least one.”

“Good idea,” Pinkie Pie said with a smile. “Let me at ‘em!” She grabbed a couple of apples and bit into them eagerly. The others followed her lead, though understandably with a bit less gusto. They all ate with few words between them, only a few compliments to how delicious they were. Mac ate his own half slowly, savoring every bite. When he was done, he had eaten it completely, stem and all. Everyone else finished soon after, and after allowing his thoughts to percolate, Mac broke the silence.

“Family’s a weird thing, ain’t it?” Mac said. He looked around the table, stopping whenever he saw an Element of Harmony. “Sometimes a pony can sort of adopt a close friend as family. And Apples, well, we’re all part of the same family, and I love all of you like family, but...that love ain’t equal, is it.”

“Suppose not,” Bushel said. “No offense to ya, Mac, but if it was between my son and you. Ah gotta choose my son.”

“I wouldn’t begrudge ya the choice,” Big Macintosh said. “Ah’d probably make the same choice if it was between you and Applebloom.” He sipped his drink, and watched as the sun finally set below the horizon. The last bits of red and orange and gold disappeared from the sky, and one by one, the stars started to peek through the ink of the night sky. “What makes you and your son closer than you and me, Bushel, and what makes me and Applebloom closer than you and me? Is it ‘cause the relationship is closer, or is it ‘cause you’re literally close, distance-wise.”

“What’s with all this family talk all of a sudden, Mac?” Applejack asked, leaning forward and narrowing her eyes.

Macintosh looked down at his half-filled glass, and then pushed it aside. He was suddenly aware of the little insignificant things around him. There was an ant crawling through a furrow in the grain of a wood board of the table. The sharp and dried points of grass poked his backside like a dozen needles. The night and the breeze gave him chills, but Octavia felt warm as her shoulder touched his. He wanted to hear her play her cello.

“I’m moving out,” Macintosh said. He focused on Applejack, but her only reaction was to exhale slowly and laugh.

“That’s all?” she asked. “You had me worried, Mac. Ah thought you were turning into an old, leathery stallion right before my eyes.” She gave him a smile and stood up. She rolled her shoulders and leaned her head side to side, and small pops and cracks sounded out as the tension left her joints. “It’s getting pretty late,” she said. “Why don’t y’all say yer goodbye’s,” she said to the few family members that remained. “Then Ah’ll walk y’all to the train station.” Everyone stood up for the goodbyes and the air filled up with the mumbles of farewells.

“It was good to see ya, Mac,” Braeburn said with a grin. He was the last cousin Mac was saying goodbye to. “Ya should drop by Appleoosa sometime. It’s really grown since yer sister and her pals helped me out.” After a quick hug, Braeburn tapped the ground to find more words to say. “You should’ve heard gramps after you kicked him off the farm,” he said. “’Ol’ Cedar woulda been proud.’ That’s what he said.”

“I wish I could’ve made amends with him,” Macintosh said.

“Don’t worry too much about it,” Braeburn said. He punched Mac’s shoulder. “He didn’t hold a grudge or anything. Ah know this farm is gonna miss ya. Just try to stay outta trouble, ya hear?” Braeburn gave him a grin, Mac smiled, and they parted ways with one last goodbye between them.

He watched the last of the relatives go, following Applejack to the train station. Talking and laughing as they took the path to Ponyville. Macintosh sighed quietly as he watched them go, and then sat back down at the table. He poured himself another drink. Octavia was right, it would have been better if there was something a bit stronger to drink. The glass stayed on the table untouched, however.

“My my,” Octavia said. She drank from Mac’s glass. “I’ve never seen such apprehensive looks.”

Macintosh looked up at the other ponies at the table, at the other Elements of Harmony. Twilight was staring intently at her glass of cider, her first and perhaps only one of the night. Rainbow Dash finished off the last of hers. She scowled at the bottle for a moment and quietly excused herself from the table. None of them knew where she was going, and none of them asked her. Fluttershy looked at her friends one after the other, hoping for one of them to provide a lead, and Rarity was busy slowly chewing an apple fritter she had been working on for the last ten minutes as she avoided eye contact with everyone. Pinkie seemed the only one unaware of the atmosphere, and she continued doing what she always had done during the reunion and busily ate every apple treat the Apple family had provided.

Twilight coughed and cleared her throat. She raised her head and gave Macintosh a forced smile. “So you’re moving? Where to?” she asked.

“Canterlot,” Mac said.

“Lovely winters in Canterlot,” Rarity whispered.

“Big Macintosh, we need to talk about Applejack,” Twilight began, “She’s spending a lot of time on the farm.”

“She has to,” Mac said. “With me doing less work and Applebloom still too young to do a lot of the heavy lifting, it’s pretty much expected.” Macintosh said. He took his glass between his hooves and turned it slowly back and forth.

“But now she’s starting to work as much as...as much as you did a few months ago. Not to mention that Applebucking Season is fast approaching,” Twilight said.

“Just convince her to hire on extra help,” Mac said. “Heck, there’s plenty of foals in the Apple family that’d be more than glad to help her out.”

“We tried that,” Twilight said, “but she thinks she can handle all the work herself, and you know how stubborn she is.”

“What makes you think I gotta chance to change her mind if you couldn’t?” Macintosh asked, but he didn’t wait for an answer. “Applejack is a grown pony that can make her own decisions. Besides, she’s dead-set on having me do as little work as possible. Face it, Twilight. There’s nothing I can do, even if I wanted to.”

Twilight rubbed her temple in frustration. “What is it with this family and wanting to do all the work themselves?” She half-muttered to the air. “Considering the story I heard today I could understand why you would, Macintosh, but what in Celestia’s name has gotten into Applejack lately? It’s as if all she thinks about now is the farm.”

“If you still haven’t figured it out then why don’t you just ask her?” Macintosh asked.

“Ask me what?” Applejack said as she approached the table. Twilight froze on the spot, her coat practically bristling from the surprise. She snatched her glass from the table and gulped down the drink.

“I was just wondering if there was any more cider, Applejack,” Twilight said with a nervous laugh.

“There’s a bottle right in front of ya,” Applejack said, pointing to a full bottle of cider not three inches away from Twilight’s hoof.

“Oh right, I must not have seen it.” Twilight gave her a half-smile and quickly turned to pour herself more cider.

“It’s, um, getting late,” Fluttershy said. She stood up and stretched out her wings. “I should really get going.”

“Same for me, I’m afraid,” Rarity added. “I have much to do tomorrow.”

“As much as I would love for this stimulating conversation to continue,” Octavia said, “I really should get to the train station.”

“Oh that’s right, you live all the way in Canterlot,” Applejack said. “Why don’t you spend the night here, Octavia? We’ve got a guest bedroom available if yer interested.”

“Really?” Octavia said with a smirk and a small sideways glance at Rarity, who looked none too pleased. “Why that’s so generous of you. I accept your offer.”

“A-Applejack,” Rarity said as she rushed to Applejack’s side. “I’m afraid I may have had a bit too much cider and am not feeling too well. Would you mind terribly if I also stayed the night?” she asked.

“Course you can,” Applejack said with a smile. “You can share the guest bedroom with Octavia, or if you want you can stay in my room and Ah could just sleep on the floor.”

“Oh no, please don’t inconvenience yourself for my sake,” Rarity said with a flutter of her eyelashes. “I’ll share with Octavia. I’m sure we’ll have just the most riveting bedtime conversation.”

“Absolutely,” Octavia said, eyes half-lidded. “We’ll talk of flowers and butterflies and other pretty things easily crushed underhoof.”

“Sounds simply divine,” Rarity said.

-*-

Big Macintosh tucked away the photo album in his top dresser drawer right beside his mother’s music box. In the dark, silent room, alone with his thoughts, Macintosh was tempted to wind it up and listen to it for an hour or two. Ultimately, he decided not to. He already had enough of the past for one day. As he closed the drawer, he decided that maybe he should leave the music box for Applebloom. If he was moving out, it wouldn’t make sense to take such a precious family heirloom. He would do the same with his harness. Applejack could probably put it to better use now. He should also return Miss Smartypants as well.

Macintosh looked around his room, and slowly realized that he wasn’t going to bring anything from the farmstead into Octavia’s apartment. What did he really need? There was nothing here that Octavia didn’t already have at her apartment.

Except for a family. Although...maybe Octavia could be his family.

Macintosh shook his head and ran a hoof through his mane. He was thinking too much again. Thinking too far ahead. He pulled his covers and got into bed, ready to sleep now that Rarity and Octavia had finally stopped whisper-shouting quips at each other. He was just about tired with all the innuendos and veiled threats.

He stared at the ceiling for a long time. An hour, maybe two. A million thoughts swam in his head along with the chirps of crickets. He wondered how many apples he could bring. He wondered if he had to pay for cider now. He wondered if Octavia liked applejack. He wondered if Applejack liked Octavia. Did it even matter?

A knock on his window provided a welcomed distraction. Macintosh hopped out of bed, and when he undid the latch and pushed open his window he was only mildly surprised when Rainbow Dash flew in. She still had the scowl she was wearing when she left, but it softened and then vanished when she turned to look at him. Her mane was in disarray, more so than usual, and she looked tired, her wings drooping slightly at her sides. Perhaps she couldn’t get much sleep either.

“Hey Mac,” she said, trying to break a smile but ultimately failing. She tapped at the wood floor and looked away at a far corner of the room. “You got time to talk?” she asked.

“Always,” Mac said.

Rainbow Dash nodded and started to speak, but she was quickly interrupted by the sound of harsh whispers coming from beyond Mac’s bedroom door. They were quiet and indecipherable, but their timbre was very much familiar. Macintosh sighed at the disturbance and headed for the door. He opened it, and found Rarity and Octavia arguing in front of the door frame. They stopped their whispering as soon as the door creaked.

Rarity cleared her throat to break the sudden silence. “So sorry to bother you, Macintosh,” she said. “I was just following Octavia after she snuck out of the room. I had a feeling she was coming here to disturb you. I thought it rather inconsiderate and decided to stop her.”

Octavia rolled her eyes. “I already said you could go first, Rarity. I honestly don’t know what more you want of me.”

Rarity’s face turned a bright red. “You said no such thing!” She glanced over at Macintosh and then back at Octavia. “A-And even if you were to offer such a preposterous proposal I would certainly refuse,” she quickly added.

“Refuse? You must not think very much of Macintosh.”

They descended into their usual back and forth, and Big Macintosh promptly ignored them. He closed the door, but they didn’t seem to notice, as their conversation continued without pause. “Maybe we should talk outside,” he told Rainbow Dash. “Head out the window. I’ll meet you at the hill with a bottle of applejack. Deal?”

The corner of Dash’s mouth turned up slightly. “Deal,” she said. She took off out the window, closing it behind her, and flew in the direction of the apple orchard. Macintosh, meanwhile, reopened the bedroom door. Rarity and Octavia were still having their back and forth, and he quietly stepped past them. Only then did the two stop to watch him go.

“Macintosh, where are you going?” Rarity asked.

“Going to see a friend,” Macintosh said without stopping or looking back. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t follow me.”

He headed down the stairs without bothering to check their reactions, and went outside to the farm. Only the buzz of fireflies filled the air, along with their softly glowing bodies. The sound of grass crushed beneath Mac’s hooves soon joined in. A thick fog had rolled in, and it obscured the tops of the trees in swirling mist as white as Rarity’s coat. It was almost as if winter had come early.

Macintosh only stopped to retrieve a bottle of applejack and two glasses. It was the same bottle he, Rainbow Dash, and Twilight had drank that one night a week or so ago. It was only half-filled now, the last of his hoard. There wouldn’t be any more until the next Cider Season. Mac remembered that he was moving away, and so he had to correct himself. That bottle would perhaps be the last of the applejack he would make for a long while at least. If it was for Dash, then it was worth it. The conversation he would have with her would be a tough one. Maybe a drink or two would make it a bit easier. He could definitely use it.

Dash was already there by the time he climbed to the top of the hill, but no word was shared between them. They looked at each other, and Mac poured the drinks for them to sip. The two of them nursed their drinks as they took in the sights. Mac figured that it would take a glass for either of them to feel comfortable enough to start. The usual amount for him at least. He looked down at the Apple family farmstead, and the hundreds of apple trees that surrounded it. It was certainly going to be a good harvest this year.

“How can you stand it, Mac?” Dash asked, her drink only half gone.

“Stand what?” he asked as he finished his own glass of applejack.

“Everything,” she said. Dash finished the rest of her applejack and dropped the cup to the ground, getting up on all fours, unable to remain sitting for a moment longer. “This whole thing with Applejack and Twilight getting you to work less.” She kicked at the grass, sending a few blades into the fog and wind. “It sucks,” she whispered as she stared down at the strip of dirt her kick unearthed. She looked back at him. “I’ve been trying to ignore it, you know? But I can’t anymore.”

She paced back and forth in front of him, shaking her head as she tried to piece the right words together. “I don’t know a lot about what it takes to run a farm, but I do know that somepony’s gotta do all the mowing and planting and plowing and a dozen other things. For a long time it was you doing all that stuff, wasn’t it? Back when Applejack was hanging out with us and going on adventures with us, it was you. But now that everything’s calm and peaceful it’s like Applejack’s butting her way in. Like, ‘Hey thanks for all the hard work, but we don’t need you anymore, so go ahead and fade into the background.’ And now that you’re moving it’s like you’re giving up!”

Mac retrieved Dash’s glass and poured both of them more applejack. He offered it to her, and with a sigh she accepted it, sitting back down across from him.

“What do you want me to do, Dash?” Macintosh asked.

“I want you to get angry!” Dash said, rearing up and stretching out her forelegs and wings to make herself look as big as possible. “I want you to kick and scream and say ‘I’m mad as hell and I’m not gonna take it anymore!’ How can you go through all that work to take the farm from Moonshine and just let Applejack practically do the same thing.”

Macintosh took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, his breath condensing as it left his lips. It rose up like smoke and joined the fog that surrounded them. It had thinned considerably since he first stepped outside, and now looked like steam rising from the cold ground itself. As the morning came, the fog would settle and become the dew that clung to the leaves of the trees and every blade of grass on the farm.

“Look around, Dash,” Mac said. “I mean really look.” Dash gulped down her drink and stood up to do just that. She turned in place as she looked down at the hundreds of apple trees around them. Each of them with dozens upon dozens of juicy, red apples hanging from their branches. The Apple family farmstead stood silent and dark as the ponies inside slept soundly. Several fields surrounded the house and the barn, and about half of them were filled with leafy greens ready to be picked and eaten. The rest were neatly plowed into rows, ready to have seeds planted into them.

“You should’ve seen it back then,” Mac whispered. “Dead and dry with not a blade of grass, but look at it now. Not a bad job, huh?” He smiled at her, an honest to goodness smile. “But now the job’s done. The farm’s never been better or bigger, and now I can give it to Applejack and let her do what she wants with it. Now all that’s left for me to do is go to the next job.”

“So what’s the next job?” Dash asked, coming to sit beside him. She poured herself the last of the applejack and sipped at it slowly.

Mac chuckled. “Whatever I want it to be.”

Dash managed to give him a small smile, but it vanished behind the brim of her glass. The two stayed silent, listening to the buzz and hum of nature around them. They sipped away the last of the applejack, and Dash tipped the empty bottle to get every last drop. She gave up after a few seconds, and discarded the bottle. She stared out at a distant point while Mac looked up at the full moon floating above them.

“I got invited to a Wonderbolt’s tryout tomorrow,” Dash said

“That’s great!” Mac said with a smile. “What time is it? I would’ve guessed that somepony would’ve told me soon as I walked into Sweet Apple Acres.”

“You’re the only pony I’ve told, Mac,” Dash said.

“Oh,” Mac said. He tilted his head. “So when are you gonna tell the others? I’m pretty sure you can’t just spring this on them last minute. I’m sure Twilight would have a fit trying to plan everything in so short a time.”

“I’m not going to tell them,” Dash said. “I don’t want to.”

“Why not?” Mac asked, utterly confused.

Dash shrugged. “This one’s special,” she said. “Invite only. No cheering section. If I told them they’d just want to come and I’d have to say no. Besides, I want to know if I can do this by myself. I think this is it, Mac. This is the one. I’ve been training so hard, and I think I’m finally ready.”

“Good luck, Dash,” Mac said. “I’m gonna miss ya when you’re finally accepted and you go out travelling Equestria for your shows.”

“I’m gonna miss you too, Mac,” Dash said. “But I’ll still visit, you know. I’m the fastest pegasus in Equestria, so coming to see you for a day or two won’t be a problem at all.”

Mac smiled and mussed up Dash’s hair with a playful hoof. She laughed and held his hoof still with her own. “Cut it out you goof,” she said. Mac did so, and Dash tried to straighten her mane out a bit. “So how are you finding a place in Canterlot anyway? It’s pretty ritzy over there, right? Aren’t houses over there crazy expensive?”

“Octavia’s letting me stay with her,” Mac said.

“Oh, now it’s making sense,” Dash said as she elbowed his side. “Trading in your plow for a mare, huh?”

“Wouldn’t put it like that,” Mac said. “But I’m curious to hear what you think about her.”

“She totally annoys Rarity,” Dash said, “so that’s a plus. And did you see the way she stared at your Aunt Applesauce. It was almost scary. She’s definitely got your back, though, no doubt about that. Maybe she can push back whenever you get pushed around. You’re a great friend, Mac, but I gotta tell ya. You’re pretty much a huge softie.”

“Suppose you’re right about that,” Mac said with a smile. He stood up and rolled his shoulders. “I’m gonna go hit the hay. You should too. You’re gonna need as much sleep as you can get to prepare for your tryout.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Dash said as she tried in vain to stifle a yawn. She stood up and gave Macintosh a hug, one that he gladly returned. They let each other go, and with a beat of her wings Dash hovered above the ground. “I’ll let everypony know the good news right after I get back,” she said. With a last goodbye she flew higher into the sky and headed home. Mac watched her go until she was just a speck in the sky. Soon enough he would be leaving as well, and for once he thought that it might not be a bad thing.

Comments

[Silverline]

Every time I think this fic has been given up on, I am proven wrong once again. And it is such an amazing feeling.

I may not have even so much as glanced at it in months, but the moment I started to read, it didn't matter. This is a pure work of art.

[Zaid ValRoa]

I know I've said this before, but... There's something peculiar about this story. Not only it's an event when a new chapter comes out, but when it does, I can feel the entire story playing back in my head, with even the smallest details and the emotions that they carried.

It's amazing how much we've seen Big Mac grow through all this time, and you can finally see that he's blooming into a new pony who, paraphrasing him, can now be whatever he wants to be.

I look forward to how the rest of the story will progress, and I think I speak for a lot of us when I say that it will be more than worth the wait.

Thanks, Ivory.

[Melancholy]

This story keeps hitting the hard spots over and over doesn't it?

[noodleninja]

This story is just simply brilliant.
It is one of the few stories that I keep re-reading hoping to find something I missed before and always disappointed in when there haven't been updates for a long period of time. Honestly, before I read this, I didn't think much of Big Mac at all. Yet you have given such life to a secondary character and imparted a certain unique "flavor" to the other ponies in this piece of writing that I am only eager to read more and delve deeper into their personalities. I await eagerly for further updates however long they take.

[JBL]

I think Rainbow Dash conveyed precisely how I felt in regards to Applejack taking over the farm. AJ's comment of "Oh, that's all?" in regards to Big Macintosh moving out seemed pretty callous to me, and I'm sure it was noted by more than a few ponies. This is a story where I don't need to reread a few chapters in order to remember where I last left it; everything just comes rushing back. An excellent chapter as usual, and I do hope we see more regular chapters in the future.

[ThePrimoChocolatePony]

It lives and I want moar so badly that it hurts.

[Strike89]

Just some things I noticed:

“Macintosh, why is there a crowd of people outside the building?

Shouldn't this be ponies?

“Howdy Dash,” he said as he poured himself a cup. “Where’s everyone else?”

Everypony.

“Bushel, why don’t you tell the story.

Should be a question mark at the end

Everyone surrounding the table leaned in to have a better look.

Everypony

“What was mom like?” she asked, and everyone fell into silence

Everypony

“Deal,” Mac said, gritting this teeth. “And when Ah win this bit

bit or bet?

So what if the apple was one he grew.

Question mark at the end

Rarity was busy slowly chewing an apple fritter she had been working on for the last ten minutes as she avoided eye contact with everyone.

Everypony

He wondered if Octavia liked applejack.

Applejack needs to be captialized

So when are you gonna tell the others.

Question mark at the end

Anyway, I'm still curious to see what's up with Applejack. She's way too calm about all of this.

[De Carabas]

This may be your best chapter yet. Forgive the hyperbole, but it's like reading Faulkner writing about candy-colored equines.

[Kill Joy]

holy buck its back!!!!!!

[Ponycycle]

5515880

That line with lowercase a applejack, refers to the drink and not the pony, I believe.

[Ponycycle]

Also, new chapter on my birthday. Thank you very much :)

[MrNumbers]

Every time I worry one of my stories might be dragging on too long, I look at this, at the fact that it's reached 220,000 words and I remember...

I remember that I doubt I could get bored of this story at twice the length.

[Kandagger]

This is the only story on the site that even makes me consider squeeing when it updates. And once again it does not disappoint this feeling.

[Vic Viper]

I want more of this story...been following it since the beginning~

[Truly Luminous]

MOAR!!!!

[drwhoovescompanion]

Yay loved the chapter

[Zanaffer]

LATE CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!!!!

[FatherNiwa]

Another great chapter. Thanks your hard work really shows.

[Lerris]

I love when this story updates.

[Aurora Dimmet]

5515880

As Ponycycle pointed out, applejack is a type of drink. Considering he was wondering about cider literally right before thinking that, and then the drink caused him to think of his sister, even the context is accurate. This is not a typo, it is intentional and correct in all ways.

[Booster Spice]

For Big Mac, things are looking,

UP?

[Strike89]

5516933
5516087

Fair enough. I wasn't sure if the sentence was calling for the pony or the alcoholic beverage. Both would have made sense, I just wasn't sure.

[Aurora Dimmet]

5517104

No worries. It's meant to show a progression of thoughts.

[TheifofZ]

5516933 In this case, I think it's forgivable to confuse the drink and the mare.

On the other hand, this isn't the first time the drink has come up in the story. So being alittle more aware wouldn't hurt.

[Aurora Dimmet]

Anyone else wonder, just for a moment, what sort of reaction Mac would have if he came back to his room and found Octavia and Rarity having a hate-makeout session?

[Bronyhood of steel]

I was really happy to see an update to this story it is my favorite Big Mac fanfic

[Gustauve]

This was the first story I ever read on this site. It's still my favorite. I know practically nothing about My Little Pony, but I know a good story when I read one, and this one has always had the distinction of being the best around. The Character development and complex interaction, the deep seated plot line and emotional experience; this story has it all in spades. But it is perhaps the central motif of what it means to be a man and how one must truly live their life to understand what life means that has truly stuck with me these past few years. I know that there are still more chapters to come, and I know that they will be long in coming, but I still wanted to let you know that what you've created here is nothing short of a masterpiece of creative writing.

[User name]

This story makes me sad, like life.

[PonyTom]

I want to hate this story, I really do. It's all sad and touching and pulls my heart strings, and I hate you horribly for it... but I can't. It's so beautiful... I think I got something in my eye...

[TheStratovarian]

Adorable, pure and simple. I love these updates!

[ROBCakeran53]

Golly gee, after working for ten and a half straight hours, I didn't think anything other than my gyrolater would be a welcome sight. But then you do THIS CHAPTER, and holy cow. Mac's FINALLY seeing things, understanding, and above all else, finally letting go. I'm so glad to see this update, and while it took you quite some time to update (which I can totally understand), it was well worth the wait.

I am now left with wondering some things. Mac is moving in with Octavia. As simple as that sounds, this fic is anything BUT simple. So I wonder, what is next for Macintosh? I'd hate to see his and Octavia's relationship end on a bad note, but I sense that some more things will be coming to him and Applejack.

Also, while it was a nice touch for Dash's kinda "final goodbye", you left out the others! Sure, Dash was like "a sister" to him, but he DID kinda grow attatched to the other mares, even if he found them annoying at times. So what becomes of the rest of their feelings? Especially Rarity, whom we all know by now she's got a crush for the big red lug. Maybe even Twi, although hers would be really tough to back up.

[TheDoktor]

Eeyup... I like it. But then, you knew that. Still the king of Macintosh fics.

[honeyhoneyhoney]

Are you made of magic and sparkles?

[howard035]

This is certainly an interesting development. The rest of the Mane 6, who have helped push Big Mac into working less (other than Rainbow Dash) now realize the consequences and want him to restore the natural order as they see it, but alas he is moving out. Still seems to be a bit extreme to be moving to a different town from his family, but I could really see him and Octavia making a go at it.

Dude could spend his time cooking and drawing, going to Fancy Pants' parties, and probably enjoy himself. I still don't know if that would make him happy though, or just content.

[WiseFireCracker]

5517927 The author would have to be in order to write something this engaging. I mean, holy crap! I found out today, and I just realized I spent my whole day on it. All worth it.

[DarkChiyo]

This update made my day. It was so beautifully written. Well worth the wait. I will be sad once this story ends.

[Number_2]

Damn, Little Macintosh's story is inspirational as fuark! Magnificent as always.

[Mister E]

I started reading this yesterday afternoon. At the end of each chapter I wanted to comment, but I held off for just one more. Now I'm caught up and I have to say, that this is one of the best stories I've ever read. Both in what you have wrote, and how you have wrote. Your clarity of meaning is excellent, and your character interactions are masterful. And the story itself is one worthy of being told.
You write a good, good, story.
I anxiously await more.

[djthomp]

You know, with that backstory about Mac and the Acres, I'm officially tired of whatever the hell AJ is trying to do in pushing him away. Great chapter as usual, but man does AJ get less and less likable.

[Anmynous]

Ngah, the only thing I remember is Mac getting hospitalized and then gettingg to know the other 5 of the M6. Gotta rereead to find out where the heck Octavia came from, for a moment I thought I was rereading that fic where he has synesthesia...

[Azkhare]

IT. IS. ALIVE!

Alive and well, I see. Good read, thank you very much!

[Shogoki]

5515862
5519619
I think Applejack came to understand that Mac didn't actually want to be on the farm and the main reason he stayed there was for his family a long time ago, and she's probably been feeling a little guilty about it, after all she did get the chance to walk away and come back when she realized that being in the farm is what she actually wanted, Mac never got that chance and Applejack thinks it's better late than never, there's nothing stopping him from coming back if he ends up choosing to do so, but she wants him to get his shot at a life away from the farm like she had.

[Hopeless Appraisal]

5520425
5519619
If AJ wasn't being as forceful as she was about it, then I doubt she would have ever broken Mac of the farm. With these flashbacks, it suddenly makes much more sense why AJ wouldn't even let Mac take care of her when she was sick. It's his care for his family (not the farm), and their reliance on him, that made him put aside his dreams. We see he used to be so fiery and driven, but now just resigned, and AJ is now trying to give that back to him even if it kills her. Damn if that scene with the apple doesn't make me tear up (for him then and her now).

And how about that Octavia! She just went and sacrificed to make him happy!? And I'd predicted she'd turn out to dissapoint him in the end... still very possible, mind you, but Mac could make a happier woman out of her yet!
...still kinda cheering on Rarity, though.

[Number_2]

5515880

I think that writing "everypony" instead of "everyone" is distracting and the use of everyone is more comfortable and relatable for the reader. That's just me.

[Strike89]

5520934

Yeah. The author seems to be going for a compromise. When someone is talking it's "everypony" and when its a description its "everyone". The ponies in the show say everypony, so it makes sense to use it in dialogue. Meanwhile, the everyone is from the narrator's point of view, who is human, thus making it more relatable for the reader.

I'm honestly ok with that.

[Akouma]

God the only thing about this chapter I didn't love was knowing it's probably going to be a bit of a long wait for the next one again. Totally worth the wait, though.

[RoundPaperClips]

Heh, it was so long that I almost forgot how real your "Keeping It Simple" is.
You are so-o-o-o good at wtiting character depth. Tell me, how do you do what you do, man? Did you sell your soul to a writing devil or something?
Great chapter by the way.

[pinkieandraritybest]

Really good! I'm so glad you finally wrote another chapter, cus this iss amazing

[Aatxe360]

Kites! Brilliant!

And Mac's cutie mark story. Simply beautiful.

[BenRG]

That's an interesting bit of back-story. I think I understand why Mac is so determined to do something completely different now. He went through a lot for the sake of his sisters, his family and his pride. However, I do think that he knows what he's doing. That conversation with Rainbow proved that to me.

Will he stay with Octavia? I don't think that they have enough in common for a relationship to work in the long run; they have too different approaches to family and to obligations. I also think that Octy in this story might be mildly mentally ill. However, I do think that they'll have a good time together and, when they mutually decide to leave it at 'friends', they'll both be happy and content with that decision.

Rarity has pretty much ruled herself out, BTW. She's shown her possessive/jealous side which is, IMHO, her least attractive attribute (what makes her 'worst pony' in my book).