The Barrel Behind the Barn
Applejack trudged through the snowy barnyard in the dark hours before dawn, just as she had every morning, every winter. She was wearing her boots, and her scarf was snug around her neck, but the biting chill in the air turned her cheeks bright red as she reached her destination behind the barn. She was looking forward to Winter Wrap-Up next week, but today she just had to get through today. That was what today was about, being the best pony she could be, every day, starting today.
Today was her birthday.
The crowbar was cold in her mouth as she used it to pry open the top of the barrel. The smell hit her hard, and she coughed a little before staring down into the darkness. There was no ice, there hadn't been for a week and a half now. It was done.
***
Macintosh didn't like the winter. After Pa came in from feeding the animals and checking the barrels, there wasn't much farm work to do. That meant he started getting drunk early, and Macintosh hated when Pa got drunk. Sure, a lot of the time he was fun, always ready to play a game with Mac, or tell jokes, or sing songs. But sometimes he got sad, or yelled at Mac for just being there. And either way, Ma was going to get mad.
Today, winter was almost over. Pa said he'd bottle the barrels tomorrow, some to sell and plenty for himself too. Granny Smith scowled at that, but she went on cooking breakfast. Ma was just too big to cook these days, Granny said Mac's little brother or sister was going to come any day now.
Mac watched from the table as Pa poured something extra in his coffee.
Just then, Granny set a plate of breakfast on the table in front of the colt, and he turned his attention to eating and leaving the house as quickly as possible.
As soon as he finished his food, Mac was out the door. He headed to the orchard alone, he never liked playing with other colts much. But there in the field of bare, snow covered trees, he'd been working for the past few days on building an army of snow ponies. It was only a week until Winter Wrap-Up, so he had to finish before they were all cleared out.
The army so far was fourteen carefully crafted ponies, larger than Mac himself. He wondered if he could get a cutie mark in making snowponies, but decided that would be silly; he wouldn't even be able to do it most of the year.
Cutie mark or no, he kept up his solitary work until lunch, adding two more ponies to the ranks. Then he took a break to launch some snowballs at his creations, but they were good soldiers and stood firm in the face of the barrage.
With his hooves and muzzle well frozen, he went back to the house for lunch. He carefully took off his snowy boots and scarf at the door and looked around for Granny, but she was nowhere to be seen. He heard hoofsteps upstairs, though, so he called up.
“Granny?”
“Macintosh? Is that you?” Granny's voice called back.
“Yup!”
Granny came downstairs quickly. “The baby's comin', Mac. Go find your pa and tell 'em to run for a doctor. There's a good boy.”
Mac's eyes went wide, all thoughts of lunch forgotten as he raced out of the house, across the snowy yard. He headed straight for the barn, and burst through the doors. There on a hay pile was Pa, fast asleep.
“Pa, get up.” Mac said, giving him a shove with his hoof. Pa just snored loudly.
“Wake up, the baby's comin' and Ma needs a doctor!” Mac said, shaking the stallion. Pa gave a cry, and Mac sighed with relief, until Pa rolled over and resumed snoring.
Mac just stared at him for a moment. Then he narrowed his eyes and shook his head at the sorry excuse for a pony in front of him, dead drunk on applejack. Mac turned and walked out of the barn, then galloped at full speed towards town.
He wasn't wearing a scarf or boots, and the cold chilled him to his bones as he ran down the winding road. With every panting breath the wind invaded his lungs, and as he crossed the bridge over the frozen river, he thought he might pass out. But he wouldn't allow it. Granny was counting on him. Ma was counting on him. Pa was-.
Mac's eyes watered as the drove himself on, through the streets full of ponies. He didn't care how cold he was, he would be as tough as the snowponies he made in the orchard. If Ma and Granny needed a pony they could depend on, Mac would be that pony. He had to.
He ran through the doors of the hospital, and stopped right in front of the nurse's desk, gasping in the warm air. The nurse's eyes opened wide, and she hurried to his side.
“What's wrong, Macintosh? Are you okay?”
“Ma. . . the foal. . .” Mac managed to get out. His lungs were burning, and his legs ached, and he was crying.
The nurse nodded, and ran to get the doctor. A few minutes later the doctor hurried out, wrapped in a coat and scarf. He started towards the door, and Mac followed.
“Where do you think you're going?” the nurse called to Mac.
“I gotta get home, Ma and Granny might need me!”
“But you need to rest! And you don't have boots, or a scarf, or-”
Mac didn't hear the rest. He was out the door, following the doctor back to Sweet Apple Acres.
By the time he got back to the farm, Mac was trailing far behind the doctor. He heard the door to the farmhouse slam ahead of him, and collapsed in the snow. His whole body felt hot, and his legs just wouldn't work anymore, and he thought he might die. But then there would be nopony to take care of Ma and Granny and the new baby.
But Mac couldn't move. He just started to cry, laying in the dirty snow of the farm yard.
He heard the crunch of hooves approaching in the snow, and turned to see Pa emerging blearily from the barn. Mac wished he could get up to kick him. Instead, Mac just lay there as Pa came closer.
“Macintosh, you okay?”
“Fine.” Mac said, sniffing and biting his chapped lip to keep from crying in front of Pa.
“You don't look too fine. Let's get ya' warm.”
His father nudged him over his back, and carried him into the barn, laying him gently in the hay. He grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around him, which Mac allowed part because he was too tired to fight it, and part because he was freezing.
He laid there for a while, pulling together the strength to get up, to go inside and find Granny and make sure Ma was okay. Finally, with way too much effort, he pushed the blanket off of himself.
Pa saw him moving, and sat down next to him. “Now, you wanna tell me what happened?”
Mac glared at his father. “Hadta run for the doctor. Ma's havin' the foal.”
“She is?” he asked, surprised. “Why didn't ya' get me?”
“I tried. You were passed out.”
The stallion didn't say anything. He looked shocked.
Mac held his glare. “I ran and got the doctor. He's in the house now. Ma coulda died, and you'd be layin' there drunk.”
Pa's ears drooped, and he hung his head. The two ponies stood there for several long minutes, before Pa whispered, “You're right.”
Mac said nothing.
Pa nodded, “You're right, Mac. Come 'ere.”
The stallion started quickly out of the barn, Mac following as best he could. His whole body still hurt, but he was curious about what Pa was going to show him. Pa lead him around to the back of the barn, where the rows of barrels of applejack stood. Mac glared at the barrels, then at Pa.
But Pa just looked Mac in the eye. “What's in them barrels is the wrong I done to you and your ma. It's too easy to get caught up in 'em, and not be all there for what's important. I'm sorry, Mac. I'm sorry for today, and for all the days I ain't been there. But words are nothin', if ya' don't act on 'em.”
With that, Pa walked up to the first barrel, turned, and gave it a buck. The barrel splintered, and the applejack poured onto the ground, turning to strong smelling mud. Mac backed up to avoid the mess, but Pa just stepped through it and gave the next barrel a buck.
Every barrel got the same, smashed to pieces, its contents soaking the freezing ground. When he finished, Pa looked over to Mac, and swallowed hard. “Today's the start, Mac. I'm gonna be the pony you and the foal deserve for a father. No more liquor for me, you got my word, and ya' saw what I did.”
Mac smiled.
Pa walked over to him, and gave him a nuzzle. “Come on, let's go see how that baby is doin'.”
Inside the farmhouse, they found Granny in the kitchen. She eyed Pa suspiciously as they entered, and set down the frying pan in her mouth. “You don't think you're goin' up to see your daughter, smellin' like a bar, do ya'?”
“Pa smashed the barrels, Granny. Every one.” Mac said happily. Granny kept her stare on Pa, and Pa looked down and blushed.
“The boy's tellin' the truth. I got rid of every drop. I'm done, Granny. And. . . I'm sorry.”
For the first time Mac could remember, Granny smiled at Pa. “Well, in that case, y'all can come on up and meet the happiest little filly I ever seen, and I've seen some happy little foals in my time.”
Mac and Pa washed up, and went upstairs. The doctor had left already, and Mac saw Ma laying in bed, and the little baby in her forelegs. The foal was orange, with a halo of golden curls, and a smile on her face while she looked around at everything in the room. Mac just watched her, tears coming to his eyes.
“Somethin' wrong, sugarcube?” Ma asked softly.
“Pa smashed the barrels, and you're safe, and I got a little sister. This is the best day.” Mac said, and he walked over to Ma and nuzzled the foal, then buried his face in the quilt to dry his tears.
“You really smashed 'em?” Ma said to Pa as he came into the doorway.
“Eeyup. And I'm dumpin' the bottles, too.”
“I'm proud of ya'.”
“You shouldn't be. It's just what I shoulda done ages ago. But I'll be a pony you can be proud of from now on.” Pa said, coming over and nuzzling her cheek.
Ma smiled and offered him the baby, and he carefully took the foal in his leg. “From here on out, this little foal is the only Applejack I'm ever gonna need. I promise all three of ya', I'll be the best pony I can be, every day.”
Pa was good to his word. From that day on, he was never drunk again, and he was the most dependable pony on Sweet Apple Acres, and in all of Ponyville, until the day he died.
***
Every fall, Pa would take some cider and make one barrel of applejack. Whenever they wanted to, Mac and Applejack could go with him on those frosty mornings to break the ice and pull the chunks of water out of the liquor as it got stronger day by day. As they got bigger, and made their own mistakes, they understood more about why Pa still made the barrel. It was a reminder, a ritual, and Applejack and Big Macintosh learned to make that barrel their own flaws and weaknesses.
After Pa died, Applejack set the barrel herself every winter. Applejack only ever knew Pa as a good, upstanding pony. He told her the story of her name, and he taught her to get up on the darkest, coldest mornings of the year and face the demons in the barrel. She had never touched a drop in her life, but she always thought she could see her own demons there in the dark. And every day she let them get stronger, all winter, until just before spring.
And with the sun rising over Sweet Apple Acres, on the morning of her birthday, Mac joined her in the farm yard. She smiled at him, and handed him her hat. Mac took it and smiled back. There were tears in their eyes, for Pa and for Ma, and for all the times everypony spent too wrapped up in their wrongs, whatever they were.
Applejack turned, and bucked the barrel so hard that it splintered, golden liquid sloshing onto the snowy ground, filling the farm yard with the scent of apples and alcohol. And just like that she was the only Applejack on Sweet Apple Acres, and everypony could start today as the best pony they could be.
Mac smiled and nuzzled her as he set her hat back on her head. Applejack smiled back, and they started on their chores.
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In before feature.
My notification camping paid off.
Zomg, nobel incoming! I totally called it. Commence the laureation!
I love this story. I also love the idea that Applejack is actually named after the alcoholic beverage itself. Very symbolic. I also like that it's a story about the dead apple parents, that isn't about the fact that they're dead.
I'd like to say that I genuinely enjoy the idea. However, I feel as though you've left things unanswered, and I need... more.
First off, Mac talks a lot in this fic. This is fine, because I thought later on you were going to tell us something drastic happened, and that that is why Mac stopped talking all that much. Something drastic did happen, but we don't know how it affected Mac.
Secondly, everybody is very quick to accept Pa back into the family as being completely sober. No doubts whatsoever?
Ma and Pa died? Gee willickers!
I know you just sort of wrote this freely, with no pressure. So in truth, this review is pointless. And so, for what it is, I enjoyed it. Like I said, I like the idea. Where Applejack got her name from. From her drunk Pa turned sober. That's neat. The problems aforementioned are merely my opinion (plus, I realize you rely heavily on dialogue, and so Mac needs to talk some). I give you a thumbs up and a gold star.
- Church
That was pretty good. I haven't read something like this before, either. Great job.
This was a nice story. Not the best I've ever read, but it isn't trying to be. It is what it is, and that's pretty good.
http://www.fimfiction.net/blog/107308/story-review-bookplayers-the-only-applejack-on-sweet-apple-acres
Wow. That was touching. It was a nice sweet short story. I didn't notice any mistakes which means either you didn't make any or I was too engrossed to notice.
Weird. Usually I just skip these short stories... but I'm honestly happy that I read this one. The premise was very nice, and you gave my headcanon the reason for AJ's name. I've always liked AJ for her personality and friendliness, and this fit her so very well.
And it's not usual for me to get emotional with stories like these. Maybe it's because I wish my own father would have kicked his own barrel years ago, but still hasn't. And probably never will.
1880175 On a day that a new life comes into the world, miracles can happen.
I like this idea of how Applejack got her name.
Nice!
I'm having a hard time getting past the fact that Mac makes snow ponies because he doesn't have any friends to play with. That's so pathetically sad, I'm not sure whether I should laugh or cry.
1880719 As some would say, it's a miracle by itself.
So sad.... That was an awesome story. Very nice!
Turning one of the most life changing events into a family into a tradition... I like that, and I love this story.
That's a nice interpretation on how Applejack got her name (and all other symbols in this story).
Now, this was a work of art! So many worry about this and that... but this is the words direct from your imagination, and by that, to me it represents writing in it's best form.
Sigh... such a waste of good applejack... not that this traditional method is used anymore.
What's now sold as applejack is just a blend of apple brandy and whiskey. But still delicious.
This story isn't bad. Some of the prose could really use some work. You definitely did capture a lot of emotion in the scene where Mac sees AJ for the first time, though. I just wish there was more of that present when you described how Pa Apple screwed up his family.
Also, alcoholism is hard to kick. If you put in something like,
It would be keeping a scope of some realism in the matter. It's easy to get those urges again, and if Pa was as big a drinker as implied here, he'd also be having some freaky withdrawal at first. It'd be pretty terrifying if Mac walked in while Pa was having a hallucination about getting stomped on by something, or snakes crawling on the floor, or something.
Either way, most of the time AJ's parents are talked about, they were always spoken of as if they were saints. I want to congratulate you on taking a different route with this element of AJ's character and history. Hooves up. /)
1886535
I just wanted to say something on the nature of alcoholism- it's different for different people. I know people in my family who could never kick it, and people who, after daily drinking, have just stopped drinking the way Pa did in the story (but with less barrel smashing.) The popular perception of it is certainly the one you mention, and it's popular because it is common, but believe it or not sometimes it is just a matter of deciding you're done.
Amazing... as usual
Wow. Just... wow.
I think you've just violently reshaped at least part of my Apple-family head canon. I mean, damn. You magnificent bastard.
fim.413chan.net/fic/src/133669931661-hnnng.jpg
Nice to see a take on Applejack's parents that aren't either total saints or abusive dicks. This was a good story.
A powerful story. Well done!
Good story, and I like the interpretation of Applejack's name.
Also, this story has good enough grammar to be included in the Good Grammar Directory, a comprehensive list of gramatically-correct stories on Fimfiction. Congratulations.
That was great!! Well-written, short and sweet, and actually gives the Apple parents some personality... this is my new headcanon.
This is nice...My current headcanon was that Pa apple was drunk who walked out on the family....
Depressing isn't it.
I liked this quite a bit. Which says a lot, because in all honesty I'm not one who regularly enjoys themes like alcohol being used in Equestria* without either a good reason or a good laugh behind it. This reason counts as exceptional in my book.
Like others, I at first thought the resolution for AJ's father was perhaps a tad too idealistic, but then I remember having a close family member myself who'd gotten fed up with his cigarette habit and just decided to stop, and that was that. Mind you, quitting is never a "poof-you're done" kind of thing, but the hard work that comes from quitting/withdrawal afterwards, I'm perfectly willing to believe simply happened offscreen.
So yeah, a novel, well-executed way of explaining the meaning behind AJ's name. Thumbs-up!
*Yes, her name's "Applejack," yes, that one cider episode... still not a fan. I just prefer my candy-coated colored ponies... well, "candy-coated," y'know? ^^;
Years late and only here because of Scribbler, but gosh dang this is such a lovely little fic. Thank you for writing this!