The Life and Times of Benjamin Inventor (Part 2)

by Bsherrin

The Homestead

The Homestead

Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home,
A charm from the skies seems to hallow us there,
Which seek thro' the world, is ne'er met elsewhere,
Home! Home!
Sweet, sweet home!
There's no place like home,
There's no place like home!

“Songs for Farmers”, The Equestrian Encyclopedia of General Knowledge

We got up the next day with the Sun and had breakfast. A yawning, blinking Rainbow Dash came wandering downstairs and ate almost as much as she did yesterday. AJ and I escorted her to the door and were both pleased at how much better she looked; she positively glowed in the early morning Sun. Rainbow flexed her wings, stretched, then turned back to us.

“I don’t have many friends.” Rainbow Dash said, looking first at me, then at AJ. “Most ponies find me too…abrasive, I guess.”

“You have two, Rainbow Dash,” said AJ. “You want another preenin’, just stop by.”

Rainbow Dash tilted her head at AJ, and then stepped forward, wrapped her right hoof around AJ’s neck and gave her a deep, open mouthed kiss. Rainbow did the same to me, then waved and flew off into the Wind. I looked over at AJ.

“Told you we were appealing,” I said smugly.

“Well, I Suwannee!” said AJ, and then looked very thoughtful.

“To work!” I yelled, and pointed off to the fields.

The remaining days of Spring Planting were uneventful. We had all in order by the 27th, three days ahead of schedule. We had a family meeting to talk about who would care for what. Granny said I’d done my part and could concentrate on the workshop until Harvest. I thanked her and filled her in on the steam trucks and racer which caused the Apples to suck in their breaths with expressions of disbelief from everypony. After the initial shock, Granny looked particularly pleased.

AJ was raring to go on the house, so I went to Twilight’s and got a copy of Equestrian Architecture, a book I remembered from the Canterlot Library. While I was gone, Granny brought out a plat of the farm and the family chose a lot for the house. It was on a slight rise not all that far from the cabin. It had a creek nearby so we could build a dam to generate electricity without building a steam plant or relying on Ponyville Power which was erratic to say the least. That also gave us water even in the Winter, hopefully gravity fed without a pump or windmill.

I walked into the kitchen just as AJ was explaining all of this with hoof gestures to a wondering family. I stood in the background and listened until she finished.

“Well, I never seen the like,” said Granny. “Applejack, how in the World do you…?” I watched Granny’s face clear. “So, then. Works both ways, does it? My, my, who’d a’ thought? My family is the smartest that ever was, that’s the truth! And t’ think you had trouble memorizin’ the multiplication tables.”

“GRANNY!” said an embarrassed AJ.

“No longer, Granny,” I said, stepping up to the kitchen table and laying down the open architecture book. “She could teach a course in quantum mechanics. Now, then. I’m partial to Queen Hortense but could live with Hoofington Eclectic.”

A vigorous discussion followed. Apple Bloom sided with me and the elegant Queen Hortense style; I decided it was so she the other Crusaders could stay in the tower room and pretend they were living in a mare’s tale. Big Mac kept asking about Ancient Equestrian and Granny thought there was nothing wrong with the standard clapboard farmhouse, just “make it bigger.” AJ just listened.

I finally held up a hoof and all eyes turned my way. “Family,” I said, still getting that small frisson with using the word, “I do appreciate your natural modesty and self-effacing way of life. This house, though, will become far more than just our house. If the workshop and farm grow the way I expect, we’ll have visitors from all over the known World coming to stay here. They will stay in this house and it will give them the first impression of Apple Manufacturing. I recommend we do all of it right the first time. And yes,” I concluded, smiling at AJ, “make sure there’s room for the young’uns.”

AJ looked joyful, blushed that deep red of hers, then threw both hooves around my neck and kissed my muzzle. The other Apples cheered. Queen Hortense it was.

I’d built the workshop on a simple square plan I’d found in a book of blueprints, and then added a second story on top laid out much the same. AJ and I agreed we needed a real architect and fortunately for us one had hung out her shingle in Ponyville a month or so before Spring Planting. We walked into town, AJ carrying the architecture book. I wanted to expand the workshop as well so I’d have room to work on more than one steam truck at a time. I also wanted a clock tower because…well, just because. I decided building the clock would be Fall’s Journeymare project. A steam powered clock. With a whistle. Maybe more than one whistle. Oh, yes.

We found the architect’s office not to far from town hall. A brand new brass plaque said “Lambert Architecture and Interiors”. There was a small “Open” sign on the door, so we went in to the sound of a light chime. The door opened onto a small sitting area with two chairs in front of a desk. Behind the desk was a drawing board angled to catch the Sun from the skylight. The furniture was simple and elegant, very understated. I knew AJ wouldn’t like it much since her tastes ran to the flamboyant, but I was pleased to find an interior designer with taste close to my own.

We stood for just a moment. A small, cream-colored unicorn with a tan mane and dark green eyes popped her head around an open door in the back, toothbrush stuck in the side of her mouth. On a first look, I would have bet she was no older than Apple Bloom. AJ and I waved our hooves and she looked surprised, and then disappeared. We heard hasty spitting sounds, then she reappeared a few seconds later sans toothbrush, gave us a gleaming smile (all the brushing, no doubt) and greeted us with a half bow.

“Please forgive my inattention, Prospective Clients. I wasn’t expecting anypony…ah, quite so early. Finial Lambert, at your service.”

I returned the half bow and said, “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Lambert. Benjamin Apple and Applejack Apple at your service.”

Miss Lambert stood quickly. “Just a moment. Aren’t you the mechanic with the steam truck and that pretty assistant? Apologies, Mr. Apple, I meant to visit your workshop before Spring Planting.”

“And most welcome you would be, Miss Lambert,” I said. “My apprentice Fall Brickle would very much enjoy a visit from a pony close to her own age.”

Miss Lambert gave a slight smile. “I’m 23, Mr. Apple. I graduated from the Manehatten School of Design and Architecture after five years of study.”

Yike! Faux pas of the worst sort. I gave a full bow. “Please excuse my rudeness and my assumption, Miss Lambert.”

The little unicorn laughed. “Forgiven and forgotten, Mr. Apple, so please don’t worry. It happens all the time. I had to show my birth certificate before I could get an ale at the pub.”

I cleared my throat, still somewhat embarrassed. “Yes, well, we’ve come today to see if you’d design us a house. I certainly hope you’re not too busy to take on another client.”

Miss Lambert just smiled. “Oh, I think I can work you in. What did you have in mind?”

Applejack and I sat in the two chairs while Miss Lambert went behind the desk and pulled out two ruled pads.

“We were thinking a brick home in the Queen Hortense style, perhaps 17 to 18 rooms and around 16,000 square feet,” I started as AJ put architecture book on the desk open to the Queen Hortense example. Miss Lambert looked up at the square footage figure, and then went back to taking notes. I explained the dam, water supply and the geothermal system first, and then went on to the house itself.

“Steel framing…I can help you there, Miss Lambert…wired for electricity, double pane windows, air channels from the basement throughout the house to cool it with convection in the Summer, the best quartered oak for the floors, maple or poplar for the wainscoting…Mrs. Apple insists on light woods…heated floors in all the rooms including the tower, gas fireplaces in each room anyway although I doubt we’ll use them, copper water pipes, gold fixtures, four inch drain lines, a septic tank, a bathroom with each bedroom. Let’s see, a large kitchen, master bedroom, ballroom/dining room and a study on the first floor, 8 bedrooms on the second floor along with a sitting area, four more rooms on the third floor, a master staircase, a wrap around front porch, servant stairs and several secret passages.”

I took a breath and watched Miss Lambert write with both hoof and magic on two separate pads, a skill I’d heard about but never seen. AJ just smiled and nodded. “A biiig kitchen,” AJ added.

“Oh, yes, and a four vehicle garage. And I’d like you to expand the workshop as well and add a clock tower. 40 feet or so should do it for the clock tower, wouldn’t you think, Mrs. Apple?”

AJ nodded happily.

Miss Lambert scribbled furiously for a couple of minutes, then looked up. She swallowed and seemed rather dazed.

“Ah…Mr. Apple, you know what you’ve outlined here would be quite expensive.”

“Hmm. Would 10,000 bits be enough?”

“Don’t forget my 3,500, Hon,” said AJ, putting a hoof on my foreleg.

“Oh, yes, that’s right. Would 13,500 bits be enough, Miss Lambert? Oh, and perhaps 2,000 bits for furniture?”

Finial Lambert sat with her mouth open, looking from me to AJ and back to me again. Then her ears drooped and tears came to her eyes.

“Mr. and Mrs. Apple, I’m terribly sorry. I’ve never designed an entire house before for a client, not to mention what would be one of the largest houses in the region. I believe you’re going to want a more experienced architect.”

AJ and I looked at one another, then back to Miss Lambert.

“Now, Miss Lambert, that’s no sort of attitude. Are you telling us you’re not capable of designing a house?” I asked although I already knew the answer.

“Well, yes, sir, of course, but…”

I leaned forward. “Finial Lambert,” I said, looking her straight in the eye.

Her ears perked up. “Yes, Mr. Apple?”

“Miss Lambert, design this house. And the workshop addition. Do it, Finial Lambert. If you make a mistake, well, that’s part of it and we’ll deal with it. But, Miss Lambert…design…this…house!! Give us ideas. Make suggestions. Make changes. But do it!! Make those blueprints! Will you try?”

The young unicorn mare became more and more animated the more I talked. When I finished, she stood and put her little hooves (just under a size 4) on her desk, then yelled, “I will! I will design your house, Mr. and Mrs. Apple. And it will be the finest ever designed!”

“And all of Equestria will know this name: Finial Lambert, Architect!” I finished, standing and sweeping my hoof across the air like a theater marquee. “So, Miss Lambert, are you our architect?”

“Yes, sir!”

“I can’t hear you, young mare!”

“YES, SIR!”

“Yes, sir, what?”

“Yes, sir, I AM your ARCHITECT!!” she yelled, throwing both hooves in the air and laughing, a wonderful, joyful laugh.

AJ laughed along with Finial and clapped her front hooves together. “Yay! We have an architect!”

“Good!” I said, sitting down again as AJ put the architecture book back in her pouch. “So, Miss Architect, do you know a good general contractor?”

Miss Lambert, still flushed and excited, laughed again. “I just might, Mr. Apple. Would you please come next door with me?”

We trooped next door to an office which was almost identical to Miss Lambert’s. There was a new plaque there as well: “Ashlar Lambert, General Contractor.” Finial walked in and I heard a chime which was a half tone higher that Finial’s.

“Sis! Are you here?” called Finial.

“Ba rrt thr!” came from the back along with the sounds of somepony brushing their teeth. After the usual spitting and rinsing, the other pony called back.

“Hey, Sis! Somepony need a doghouse?”

Another small unicorn identical to Finial raced out of the back room. She saw us, slammed to a stop, made a small “eeep!” sound, then made a hasty half bow.

“Please forgive my rudeness, Prospective Clients. I wasn’t expecting anypony other than my sister. Ashlar Lambert, at your service.”

Identical twins, I thought. That would explain their small size. The only difference between them was their cutie marks: Ashlar’s showed the finished facade of an Ancient Equestrian temple and Finial’s was a blueprint of the same. Remarkable.

I shook myself free of my reverie and returned the half bow. “Not at all, miss. A pleasure to meet you. Benjamin Apple and Applejack Apple at your service.”

Ashlar stood quickly. “Say, aren’t you the mechanic…?” she started.

“He is, Sis,” said Finial, waving her right hoof. “The Apples want us to build them a house and an addition.”

Ashlar lit up the room with that same beautiful smile Finial showed us earlier. “Really?!?” Then she sobered, cleared her throat and put on a neutral expression. “I mean…of course, Mr. and Mrs. Apple, we’re happy to help.”

Ashlar walked around to her desk and pulled out the same pads; the only difference was she was left hooved while Finial was right hooved. Finial had brought her notes and started talking, using some terms I didn’t know. Ashlar wrote and wrote, occasionally looking up in disbelief. Eventually, just like Finial, she sat back and looked stunned.

“Mr. Apple, Mrs. Apple, I’m overwhelmed. And I’m afraid I’ve no idea how to build…”, Ashlar stopped and picked up one set of notes, “…’convection louvers’ or ‘geothermal heated floors’. I wouldn’t even know where to start!”

“How about the rest of the house, Miss Lambert?” I asked. I really wanted those secret passageways, too.

“Well, yes, certainly, even the electrical,” she said, paging through her notes.

“Easily solved, then. Let’s take a trip to the workshop and I can show you the geothermal system along with the floors and the convection louvers. I believe your sister wanted to visit anyway, yes? If you have the time, there’s nopony there now. You could look around all you liked.”

The two sisters looked at one another, then both grinned and said at the same time, “We’d love to visit!”

And it was done. We all walked to the workshop and enjoyed the wonderful Spring weather. The two unicorns walked on either side of AJ and got to know her over her taste in fabrics, what AJ wanted in the kitchen, families and filly clothes. I followed along behind, enjoying the view of my filly in the middle of two very attractive unicorns. That’s my wife, I thought to myself, marveling at it anew.

We got to the workshop and I dumped the mail which had accumulated onto the kitchen table for Mrs. Grass to sort out later. We started in the basement and I showed the sisters the cooling ducts and the pipes from the geothermal. I popped a couple of floorboards and showed them the coils, then led them outside to the unit itself. It was magic fired which caused both to exclaim in admiration. I showed them the hot water heater after that and Ashlar scribbled some on a pad she carried. Finial at times looked a little distressed and I had to urge her to tell me why. She finally did.

“It’s just so…masculine, Mr. Apple,” she said, coloring slightly.

“You sound like Mrs. Grass, Finial,” I told her laughingly.

After the tour, the two unicorns had a quick confab in the kitchen, then turned to me.

“Mr. Apple,” said Ashlar rather shyly. “Thank you so much for showing us your workshop. You would do us a great honor if you’d merge with us so we could understand your designs and your wants more completely.”

Well, well. I looked over at AJ who nodded serenely, then gave the sisters a half bow. “The honor is mine, Miss Lambert primus and Miss Lambert secundus.”

I held out my right forehoof and two little cream colored hooves, one left and one right, joined mine. I extended my magic field and met both mares at the same time. This was a first merging, so I kept it very light but still picked up all sorts of memories and emotions.

Both sisters elated to have work. We were their first real clients.

Finial and Ashlar as teenagers, Ashlar sobbing into a pillow and Finial holding her tightly.

Several stallions and mares on a construction crew laughing at Ashlar when she asked for a job.

A very kind old stallion plumber helping Ashlar learn to solder copper.

A pleasant older mare professor asking Finial her first day of architecture college, “Are you lost, little filly?”

The sisters sharing a hoofshake as they installed their brass plaques on their new offices.

Both admiring Applejack.

And we were out.

“Oh, gosh, you’re powerful, Mr. Apple!” said Ashlar.

“You know Louise-Renée de Kéroualle? How wonderful!” said Finial.

“I know how to build a geothermal system, Finial!” said Ashlar.

“Me, too!” said a happy Finial.

“You’re so in love with your wife, Mr. Apple,” sighed Ashlar. “How romantic! You’re so lucky, Mrs. Apple.” Finial gave an identical sigh.

I raised my eyebrows at AJ when Ashlar said that and AJ winked at me.

“Any other questions, my builders?” I asked.

“No, sir!” “None, Mr. Apple, thank you,” both answered at the same time.

“We’re on our way then. How does lunch on me at Pierre’s sound to both of you?”

“Wonderful!” both mares answered at once, then laughed.

We had a fine lunch and both mares talked building techniques the entire meal. AJ and I just listened, very pleased with such enthusiasm. When we finished, Finial said she’d have blueprints for us in two weeks while Ashlar said she’d start gathering material and labor. I wrote out a check to Finial for 1,000 bits and one to Ashlar for 4,000 bits. Both just stared at them for a few seconds before thanking us profusely.

We waved good-bye and went our separate ways. We returned the architecture book, then walked back to the farm, each lost in our own thoughts.

“So that’s what it’s like when you merge with another unicorn,” said AJ finally.

“A mild merge, yes. Some can become quite intense.”

“Like you and Shining Armor or you and Rarity,” said AJ.

I just nodded.

AJ leaned over and nibbled on my neck. “I got ya, though,” she said, voice somewhat muffled.

“So you do, Mrs. Apple. And you’ll have me the rest of your natural life.”

That led to us racing back to the cabin to try page 31 which to my delight wasn’t at all imaginary.

An Unexpected Guest

Mrs. Duke: “How would you feel if none of your relations received their invitations to this wedding?”
Aunt Agatha: “They would show up anyway. They’re relatives.”

From the play “The Happiest Unicorn”

The 1st of Fourth saw my routine return to normal. Fall and Mrs. Grass came back to the workshop and we decided we’d reproduce the racer first. Fall started to take it apart while I took inventory of the materials she’d ordered. We didn’t have all that much room for storage, so the loading dock was stuffed to capacity. We thought we’d have enough room to work, though. I also told Fall about the clock tower and the expansion and she was eager to start designing the clock right away.

“One project at a time, my Apprentice,” I warned as she quivered in place.

“But, Boss…a clock! A clock for the workshop. Which I’ll design and build!” she said, even more manic than usual.

“Yes, yes, Apprentice, and I appreciate your enthusiasm; paying customers first, though, as you well know.”

“Yes, sir,” she said and went back to the racer cheerfully enough while I started on some of our smaller jobs.

On 4th I was finishing up a set of decorative cabinet hinges for Addisyn’s Fine Furniture when I heard the workshop doorbell ring. Fall was on the loading dock drawing the racer’s parts to use in an exploded diagram, so I went to see to who it was myself. Waiting was an older Earth pony mare, very fit and sturdy, with a tan coat, a dark green mane and alert light brown eyes.

“Welcome to Apple Manufacturing,” I said. “I’m Benjamin Apple. How may I help you today?”

“Whooo-eee!” said the mare, looking me up and down as she tossed her saddlebags into the corner. “Emmie told me you was good lookin’! She wasn’t exaggeratin’, that’s the truth.” The mare’s accent was the same as AJ’s.

Emmie? Emerald? Then I noticed the family resemblance. I gave her a half bow. “Do I have the honor to be in the presence of Margaret Grass?”

“So polite!”, said the mare, stepping up and shaking my hoof as I raised from the bow. “I’ll bet you and Emmie get along like peas and carrots.”

I heard delicate hoofsteps behind me, then a gasp of surprise.

“Maggie?!? What are you doing here?” said Mrs. Grass, right forehoof over her heart.

“Howdy, Emmie!” yelled Margaret, racing over and embracing Mrs. Grass. “I’ve come t’ live with you just like we talked about! Ain’t that grand?”

“What!! We never…Maggie, we were just talking…you can’t just…!” said Emerald, pushing Margaret away from her.

“Yep, I done sold the farm. My furniture gets here next week. It’s not much, really, just that bedroom suite o’ Mom’s and that sideboard you always liked.”

“Furniture!?! Maggie, this is Mr. Apple’s home, not mine! You can’t just show up like this and move in!! It’s…it’s rude!!” said Emerald, voice rising as she kept talking. For the first time in my experience, the Widow Grass was irate. Ah, families, I thought as I listened, who would be without them?

“That’s all you ever say to me anymore, Emmie, ‘You’re so rude!’ That’s all you’ve ever said since you went off to that hoity-toity school to become more genteel! Ya came back a snob, you did!” Margaret’s ears were flat to her head and her mane bristled.

Emerald’s posture matched Margaret’s, ears and all.

“Well, if you’d only listen! You always did just what you pleased ever since we were fillies!!” yelled Emerald.

Time to intervene. “Mares,” I said, holding up a hoof.

“Well, at least I wasn’t a goody-two-horseshoes like somepony I know!!” yelled Margaret even louder.

“Mares!” I said, using a touch of magic and yet again wishing I could get my voice to sound like Death’s.

Both mares turned to me, astonished. Then both looked at the ground with identical expressions of chagrin.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Apple,” both said at the same time, reminding me of my builder twins.

I heard galloping hooves coming from the loading dock and in raced Fall carrying a crowbar in her right hoof. She slid to a stop when she saw us.

“Uh…I heard yelling?” said Fall, looking from the mares to me.

“Not at all, Apprentice, merely a vigorous family discussion. May I present Mrs. Grass’ sister, Margaret Grass? Mrs. Grass secundus, Fall Brickle, my Apprentice.”

“Um…pleased to meet you,” said Fall, lowering the crowbar.

“Why, what a doll! You’re every bit as pretty as Emmie said!” exclaimed Margaret, back to herself with no pause at all. She put both forehooves on either side of Fall’s muzzle.

“Thank you, ma’am,” said Fall, dimpling at the compliment.

“Mrs. Grass secundus is going to live with us, Fall. Please make her welcome.”

“Why, welcome, Mrs. Grass! Well, back to drawing for me,” said Fall. She turned and galloped away, crowbar over her right shoulder.

“So cute!” said Margaret as she turned back to Emerald.

“Don’t change the subject, Maggie!” said Emerald, still annoyed.

And then I Knew what to do.

“Margaret…may I call you ‘Margaret’?” I went on at Margaret’s nod. “Margaret, I assume you’re one of those ponies who likes to stay busy?”

“Yep, no sippin’ tea for me. I worked ever day of my life and don’t aim to stop now,” Margaret said. “I figured I’d find somethin’ to do after I got here.”

“Well, then, you’re arrival is most timely. First, I assume you know how to box as well as Emerald?” The Widow Grass considered self-defense a necessary part of deportment. Fall had become quite accomplished under Emerald’s teaching and could give me a run for my money. We sparred once a week or so.

“You bet. I won the blue ribbon at the County Fair four years running 10 years ago. The Fair committee made me retire from competing.”

I nodded. “I plan to open a martial arts school here and I’d very much appreciate it if you could start some boxing classes. We’ll use a rented space until the school is up and running, but the sooner, the better, particularly for the teenage stallions.”

Margaret nodded. “I remember when my boys was that age. Had t’ box them into shape a time or two before they’d listen.”

“That’s right, you have two stallions, don’t you, Margaret?” I asked.

“Yes, sir, both grown now. Had ‘em well before the War. Good colts, both of them.”

And cue the Griffon War again. “Excellent,” I said. “Also,” I added as I walked to a neat stack of paperwork and pulled out a letter, “the Chancellor has asked me to supply food for my friend Shining Armor’s Midsummer wedding on the 20th of Sixth. I did the same for the Gala two years ago although this is a much smaller job, enough to feed around 100 ponies. Would you be willing to do it? The Crown pays a salary which of course you’d collect. You don’t have to attend the wedding though.” I certainly wished I didn’t.

Margaret took out a pair of jeweled reading glasses as I handed her the letter. She read through it quickly and then looked up. “Shoooot, this is way less than I did on my own farm during Harvest. Sure, I can do it and get it loaded, too.”

This was better and better. “Then Mrs. Grass secundus, welcome to Apple Manufacturing. I’ll start you out with the same salary as Emerald, shall I? We can review that after three months if you’d like.”

Margaret looked stunned. “You mean…I get paid?”

I thought of Fall and her reaction. “You’re rendering more than one service, ma’am, so yes, of course you get paid.”

“Yeeee-hah!” Margaret yelled, grabbed me around the neck and kissed me on the mouth. “Thanks, Youngster! I won’t let you down.” I held the very fit older Earth pony and laughed. Emerald tried to pull Margaret off of me but didn’t have much luck.

“Now then, Margaret, why don’t you put your things in my room for now? I said as she stepped back from the hug. “I’m living with Mrs. Apple at the farm. We’re starting a house soon, so I doubt I’ll be staying here.”

For the first time, Margaret looked subdued. “If’n it’s all the same to you, Mr. Apple, I’ll just sleep with Emerald until my bed arrives, then I’ll put that in her room. I don’t…well, nights get kinda long when it’s just you, don’t they?”

“So they do, Margaret, so they do.”

“Eh, call me Maggie. And since you’re my boss and all, I’ll call you either ‘Boss’ or ‘Mr. Apple’. Or ‘Studly’!” said Maggie, elbowing me in the ribs and giving me a wink. Emerald planted a hoof in her face and groaned, something Maggie ignored completely. I just grinned back.

“Well, I’ll get unpacked and get settled in,” said Maggie. She grabbed her saddlebags and raced up the steps, age not slowing her in the least. I heard a sigh and looked back to find a resigned Emerald Grass.

“Mr. Apple, I know this is terribly sudden. Thank you so much for taking her in. She’s been so lonely on the farm since her youngest left.”

I took both of Emerald’s hooves between mine. “For you, Emerald Grass, I’d take in 10 sisters as long as you agreed to stay.”

Emerald blushed a very pleasing light red and looked away. “Oh, Mr. Apple, the things you do say! No wonder Mrs. Apple always looks so happy when you’re around.”

“Well, your sister is family, after all,” I said, releasing Mrs. Grass’ hooves and looking up the steps after Maggie. “If only I could get her to go to that blasted wedding in my place.”

“Now, dear, you know you enjoy weddings,” said Emerald, patting my muzzle before she returned to the kitchen. Mares, I thought for the hundredth time.

Maggie fit into our household beautifully. She and Emerald would take turns brushing Fall’s mane, combing and braiding her tail, working on her hooves, choosing bows and otherwise treating her like a living dress store manikin. Fall loved it and occasionally both mares would work on her at the same time, chatting away with one another like Fall wasn’t even there. I first heard Fall’s purring hum during one of those sessions. It was a higher pitch than AJ’s but I thought age would deepen it.

By 8th Fall had finished drawing every single one of the racer’s 414 parts including the nuts and bolts (“Hex Nut, fine thread ½”-20 x 24”). With Emerald’s help, Fall had written a very concise instruction manual as well. I went through all of it after supper.

“Fall, these are marvelous, just marvelous,” I said, looking at a beautiful drawing of a cylinder. “You have a real talent for this.”

Fall beamed and dimpled. “Thanks, Boss. I’m glad you think they’re good enough for the customers.”

“Mmm, more than just that, Fall,” I answered, reading about the throttle settings. “I believe I’ll take this to Theimer’s and have him print it. Oh, and I’d like for Finial Lambert to see these. She may hire you part-time to help her draw blueprints when her business picks up.”

“But, Mr. Apple…I work for you,” said a distraught Fall.

I looked up. “Yes, Fall, so you do. Part of becoming a mechanic, though, is understanding the basics of building. After all, how can you improve plumbing if you don’t understand it now? That’s why I’d hoped you’d help with the house once we start building it.”

“Ready to help, Mr. Apple!” said Fall, jumping up and giving a very credible salute.

“And who taught you to do that, Miss Brickle tertius?” I asked, amused.

“Maggie. One of her sons is in the Navy.”

“Is that so? Well, well. You’d look good in uniform, Apprentice, although I do wonder what the Guard would say if they saw you? Most likely they’d whistle and make catcalls.”

Fall blushed a deep rose. “No, they wouldn’t! You’re just saying that, Boss!”

“Now, Apprentice, don’t underestimate yourself. You’ll be 15 in a few weeks and have become quite the attractive young mare. Stallions will start to notice you very soon if they haven’t already.”

Fall blushed even deeper and giggled. “Oh, Mr. Apple! I just want to build things.”

“I know, Punkin’, but it’s best you’re ready for the attention. Ask Maggie or Mrs. Grass if you have any stallion questions. And if any ever give you trouble and I’m there, they’ll walk funny for weeks.”

Fall laughed and laughed at that.

“So, enough about that! Tomorrow it’s into town to meet Finial and to get this manual to the printers. And then,” I said, rubbing my hooves together, “we reproduce the racer.”

“Hooray! May I test drive it after I put together?”

“Test drive and deliver it with me, young mare. Once you’re in with the aristocracy, you’re in for a lifetime and I most definitely want them to know the name ‘Fall Brickle’.”

The next morning Fall and I had breakfast, then took the steam truck into town. We stopped by Finial’s office and I introduced her to Fall. Fall showed Finial the manual and Finial was most impressed. Finial brought out several pages of blueprints for the house and said she’d finish the rest by 15th. Next, we turned the manual over to the printers and the young unicorn stallion there (who did indeed look at Fall avidly) said he could have four copies for us by 12th.

We went back to the workshop and I reproduced the racer twice and some of the parts three times for spares. We had more than enough material and after I’d made a set of parts, Fall labeled them and either set them aside for the new racer or packed them into crates.

When we finished just before lunch, we had two crates marked “Steam Racer (I of II)” and “Steam Racer (II of II)” stacked in the corner, another marked “Steam Racer Spare Parts” and two complete disassembled racers, the original and the copy, both laid out on the workshop floor. I was a little tired but still had more magic left than I expected. The only addition to the Earl’s racer was a hood which covered the boiler and condenser. Fall painted the Earl’s coat-of-arms on either side, and I sealed it with magic. Snazzy. I made a hood for her racer, too, and she painted “Fall’s Racer” on it.

For once I kept up with Fall during lunch. Both Grass mares came to the shop and admired the organized parts, and then I left reassembling them to Fall. She went back to it, singing as she worked. I took a nap outside in the Sun, ran through a few T’ai Chi katas when I woke up, practiced the piano and then finished some smaller orders including repairing one of Rarity’s sewing machines.

Mid-afternoon, I checked on Fall.

“How long do you think, Apprentice?” I asked. She had the frame and wheels together on the Earl’s racer.

“Two days, Boss. That includes both and gives me time to double-check the fittings,” said Fall, looking more fetching than ever with a smear of grease across her muzzle.

“Hmm, 11th, then. Shakedown on 12th, manual ready on 12th, too. How about we take the early train on 13th and deliver the Earl’s car that afternoon?”

“Wow! I get to meet a real Earl?” said Fall, eyes shining.

“Yes, indeed. We may have to adjust our schedule a bit depending on what our customer wants, but we should be back on 14th or 15th just in time to go over the blueprints. We’ll need to dress, too, Fall, so make sure you pack your leathers and a dress for evening wear.” Fall could just fit into her racing leathers; she’d need larger ones by Midsummer.

Fall nodded.

“And you can put all those lessons in deportment to work as well,” I added.

“I’ll be ready, Boss. I won’t embarrass you or the shop, I promise.”

“I’m more worried about Mrs. Grass since she’ll ask for a detailed report when we get back,” I said.

Fall laughed at that.

“Well, I’m off to make these deliveries, send a telegram to the Earl and arrange for a flatcar. Back later this afternoon,” I said, waving.

Fall waved back, then returned to assembling the racer.

I made good time into town and waved to Summer Breeze as I drove by the Post Office. I stopped by Rarity’s and drove around back. Lauryn was running the shop since Rarity was off somewhere, so I greeted her and turned over the sewing machine.

“Thanks, Mr. Wizard,” said Lauryn, taking the sewing machine in one hoof. “What do we owe ye?”

“Nothing,” I said, waving a hoof. “I just replaced the arm shaft with better quality steel. Didn’t take five minutes.”

“Thank you, sir. Um…Mr. Wizard?” asked Lauryn, hesitating slightly.

“Speak.”

“I never did thank you for gettin’ me this job. Miss Rarity, she takes me everywhere with her and, well, I just love it,” said Lauryn. Lauryn’s dimples when she smiled reminded me of Fall.

“I just gave Rarity your name, Miss O’Malley; it’s you who got the job with your exceptional talent.”

“Thank you anyway, sir,” said Lauryn and gave me a quick kiss on the muzzle.

‘Of course, Miss O’Malley,” I said. I waved good-bye and was off to my other deliveries. I decided as I drove away I’d ask Lauryn to help Maggie with the boxing lessons as sort of a guest instructor.

I finished around 3, then made my way to the depot. I walked into the station office and found Seamus Martin sorting through some paperwork.

“Mr. Wizard!” he said when he looked up. “Good to see you, sir. How’s married life?”

“An outstanding state, Mr. Martin, although more work than I expected. Have to keep the mare happy, you know?”

Seamus laughed. “That I do, Mr. Wizard! I’ve been married six years now.”

“You have? I didn’t know that. Foals?” I asked.

“One who just turned four and one on the way.”

“Well done, Mr. Martin! I’ll bet Whiskers is a doting grandfather.”

Seamus laughed again. “You should see him rolling on the floor with Donnell, Mr. Wizard. He’s like a colt himself. So, then,” said Seamus, pulling out his scheduling book, “what can I do ye for?”

I arranged for the flatcar and two first-class tickets. When I started to pay, Mr. Martin waved off the tickets.

“HO told me to give you free passage anytime you wanted it, Mr. Apple. It’s their way of paying for that locomotive you made on the way back from Hot Springs.”

“Well, most generous, Mr. Martin. Thank you and thank Head Office for me.”

“Other engineers have started putting mare’s names on their engines, too. You really stared something, Mr. Wizard. I am a bit sore at you, though,” said Seamus looking grim.

“And why is that, sir?” I asked.

“Bull O’Keefe. One of the best conductors who ever set hoof on a train just stops in the middle of whatever he’s doing and stares off inta space. He’s done it ever since the weddin’ after you introduced him to that Brickle filly.”

Bull O’Keefe acting like a lovestruck teenager? It was too much and I started laughing. Seamus joined me and when we finished, we looked at one another and started laughing all over again.

“Stop, stop, Seamus,” I said, waving a forehoof as I propped myself up with the other on his desk. “Oh, by the Lord of Hel’s vambrace, that’s funny.”

Seamus grinned. “We give Bull down the road for it, but he just smiles that lazy smile of his and takes it like a stallion. I think he really does love the filly.”

“I do wonder if Bull knows how devoted Spring is to the farm?” I said, sobering slightly.

“Oh, yes, sir, he does. Bull’s always wanted to be a farmer.”

“He has?”

“That’s right, ever since he was a foal.”

“Well, that should work out well, then. Huh. How about that?” I said.

After some more back-and-forth, I shook hooves with Seamus and headed back to the workshop. I wondered if Bull would follow the Old Ways and decided I’d enjoy watching it if he did.