Near the Tree

by Comma Typer

Hangdown

Apples are sliced, stabbed, dipped, candied, just like in the fairs.

A slice of pie to provide for Cranky Doodle tapping his foot in front of the line, taking a smile and giving thanks right after reminding her of exams a couple weeks from now. Some apple cider is served for Miss Cheerilee, who’s enraptured just to see foals running about in the plaza.

Big Mac’s here to help, carrying a massive, muscle-creaking barrel of cider to refill. Apple Bloom hears that same voice, the same Eeyup per customer, the same bass voice that quashed applesauce or cleaned house or saved her from choking on water in a deep pond or sang lullabies to her right before sleep.

Sugar spills on her hand, and is wiped away fast. Here’s some donuts for some orange sweet tooth of a dragon. “So don’t they all look just like her family?” She can’t hear the rest of the dragon’s words as she leaves, only scattered moments. Something about more donuts, more coffee, movies to watch, home’s a volcano.

“Hey, that’s caramel on my mane!” It’s one of the Crystal Shadowbolts, a pony one, with a flowing robe that shouts upper crust.

Apple Bloom is promptly pushed to the side, Granny moving in to take her place, says her nice apologies, though family pride ripples like a storm-enraged river. Wouldn’t want to insult and demean the elderly woman that is her own granny, surely?

But Applejack now has all her attention.

Arms away from her sister, Applejack whispers in concern, eyes scanning for signs of the unusual. “You’ve been in the dumps lately. What’s goin’ on, sugarcube?”

A gulp. “It’s… I-I met Big Mac. The pony one at the pizzeria.”

“Wait, wait… whaddya’ mean he’s Big Mac? Ya mean the one from Equestria?”

A nod.

Granny’s still talking, now arguing with the not-Crystal student with countryisms and how things are with honest Apple family business. Big Mac, meanwhile, heavy-lifts the operation, preparing pies for the oven and pouring cider into little plastic cups, fortunate that most visitors’ lunches have passed.

“He’s, well… he is Big Mac.” Her stare goes out to the same colts and fillies and kids playing around, chasing balloons in an unintended display of unity. Even Fluttershy is present, stroking one of their manes with her delicate fingers, much to the dismay of a colt thinking it’s the opposite of cool. “B-but…”

“But what, Apple Bloom? Did he hurt you?”

“No, he didn’t hurt me! He’d never do that!”

“Then what, sugarcube? This meetin’ your family from the other side’s complicated enough as is—I mean, look at ya!—but what’s really got ya sadder than a beaver outta’ the forest?”

Her hands splay open, nervous, the phantom grip of his hoof hanging around. “I just didn’t know it’d end up… that bad, sis.” If only she can shake it one more time; only then, maybe the magic touch of family would’ve made everything better. “I… maybe I was just too fast. He was just sittin’ there, and I just went to his table and introduced myself… stupid…”

With both hands on her hips, Applejack shakes her head. “Apple Bloom, that Big Mac may be just the same as our big brother, but ya can’t just walk up to a stranger and be tighter than a bear hug in a minute.”

“B-but what about Sweetie Belle and Scoots?! They were doing jus’ fine with Rarity and Rainbow—“

“Did you see Scootaloo hang out with Rainbow Dash?”

A bell rings from deeper in the mini-kitchen. Applejack’s hands weave past her sister, spilling a vat of piping hot fritters onto a paper plate just in time for Big Mac to pass onto a human-pony pair of Pinkies craving for everything fried and greasy.

She fixes her eyes back on Apple Bloom.

“I… no, I didn’t see her, yes, not Rainbow; they said she’s gonna backstage, but I haven’t seen them together yet… but what about Sweetie—?”

“How often did ya see them out an’ about?”

She opens her mouth to object. The two were having quality time when she did see them, but—“Just… jus’ twice.”

Applejack can only throw her head forward. “Look, I know yer excited ‘bout this whole other-world parallel universe thingy. And ya know what? I am, too. I’d be mighty stoked to meet pony me out there and see what we’ve got in common. Heh, maybe we can lasso and do rodeos together. But I also know we’d be different.”

“Of course, we’d be different! I’m a human, he’s a pony—“

“Ya know it’s much more than that, AB. I haven’t read much ‘bout them—that’s Twilight’s thing—but we’ve got different stuff. They’ve got all the magic, we’ve got all this tech, and from what I’ve heard, Ponyville’s some rural place that ain’t nothing like this city. All the big lights, the big buildings, the big everything… don’t ya think those’ll scare more than a few of ‘em away?

“But I thought we’d just click right off the bat! I saw Sweetie Belle nuzzle Rarity like it’s nothing! They’re just like sisters, just like that!”

A breathy sigh sings out in reply, held on for so long. “We’re not all that lucky, Apple Bloom. You’ve already said you didn’t see Scootaloo talk to Rainbow, and you only saw Sweets with Rarity for a couple minutes. I don’t wish it on ‘em, but maybe they bickered around while you weren’t lookin’. If that didn’t happen, jus’ have the two of ‘em live under the same roof for a week; ‘fore ya know it, they’ll start squabblin’ like nothin’, jus’ like with our Rarity.”

Her family hands now return to her little sister’s shoulders, Applejack bent down to get eye-to-eye, up close.

“I know it’s a dream come true. Talking unicorns, flying horses, magic straight up from a fairy tale… but this ain’t a fantasy. This is the real world. Again, ya don’t just walk up ta people like that and click—“

“Ya’ straight up offered friendship to a demon. Twice.”

“Okay, other than big magical friendship problems, we don’t just click all of a sudden.” Applejack begins to stand up, pulling Apple Bloom up by the hand; it’s a relief to be back up, though there’s a line waiting outside, ready to be served once again. “‘Sides, I think we’re makin’ a mountain out of a molehill. If Big Mac’s here, the other Apples are here too, so we can go give ‘em a proper Apple family welcome some better time, okay? Atta’ there, sis. Now, let’s—“

“We’re out of apples!”

Thump!

And Granny’s planted a Closed sign on the counter, the death knell for waiting hungry stomachs.

Thanks to instinct, Apple Bloom instantly looks below the counter. Empty trays, no apples. The line, now populated with only humans again, can only shake their heads and groan once more.

“Alright, ya’ heard me, missies! We’ve run out of apples!”

“Already?!” the two sisters yell belatedly, Big Mac content to just lean back.

“That’s right!” Granny wags a finger at a couple random pegasi high in the sky as if they were rotten pigeons. “I knew this Expo’d have a lotta’ guests, but I didn’t know there’d be a riot for our apples! Half the customers were horses anyway, but… bah! We need to get back home and harvest more apples lickety-split! Apple Bloom, yer comin’ with me!”

“Wait, whuh?!”

---

Running down stone paths, storming out of the gate, hopping back into the truck, Granny not missing a beat despite her weighty frame, plunging the key into ignition: turning on, turning on, engine starting, engine trying to start, dying to start.

“Come on, you old rusty hag! Don’t give up on me now!”

Apple Bloom puts herself further back into the passenger seat, letting Granny’s verbal abuse of the steering wheel take center stage. Gone are Scoots and Sweetie cramping her all around; all the space to breathe free, alone. Other than Granny, the only faces she sees are security guards’, showing little concern for a jalopy sputtering in its twilight years.

“C’mon, you willowing sapper! Ya stinky badgerin’—“

Kaph!

The indicators die down.

Key keeps turning, turning. Turning on, turning on, never starting. The odor hits, the stench of something black, something dark, oil mixed with smoke rising from beneath the hood.

“Oh boy.”

The two leap out of their seats, down to the ground, out to open the hood to have smoke assault their eyes and lungs. They flap it away, and Granny can only quip, “Engine’s dead, no doubt about it.”

“Could we jumpstart the battery like in the movies?”

“That’d only work for a minute, and this car ain’t got no fancy modern battery!”

One of the guards takes a step forward, surely about to ask if the two poor ladies needed help. Apple Bloom takes a hand into her pocket while he questions Granny, a convenient distraction to get her phone out. Good coverage on, take a look at the texts, her MyStable group chat with the CMC.

Front and center, Scootaloo posing with Rainbow Dash—the pony one, wings and aerobat uniform and cocky smile and all (even wearing shades). With posters signed and the girl herself sporting loud fake rainbow hair. Met my idol! Again! I’m so excited, I’m gonna die!

She scrolls up, backreads the conversation, only to witness a couple photos of Sweetie Belle smiling for the camera with Rarity—two of them, actually. Turns out both Rarities are in attendance as well, human and pony getting along with each other just as fine, pony Rarity of course fawning over how human Rarity may be even superior because humans always wear clothes.

Where you at, AB?

It’s a new message popping up, from Scootaloo. There’s another sigh.

Was headed home to restock on apples. But then the truck died.

Seen, no reply.