Cutie Mark Crusaders - Earning Your Keep

by DMDash71

Chapter 2

“Wow!” Sweetie Belle stood still for a moment, taking in the view. “I thought you said it was just a garden. This is huge!”

Scootaloo groaned, letting her head sink down to rest on the handlebars of her scooterboard. “This is like, massive. We’re never gonna be able to finish this in time to get to the store today!”

Apple Bloom jumped down out of the little red wagon and shook her windblown mane back into place. “Ah told ya not to rush, Scootaloo. And we ain’t gotta pick everything, just the stuff that’s ready to be harvested.”

“Yeah, but…really? I mean come on!” Scootaloo waved her forelegs dramatically in the air and gestured at the plot before them. “I thought you only grew apples here. You could feed the whole town!”

“It ain’t that big.” Apple Bloom trotted over to the edge of the plowed earth before them and pawed at the ground with a forehoof proudly. “But it does for th’ Apple Family, ‘less we need somethin’ special from town.”

The vegetable garden lay off to one side of the storage barn, slightly less than halfway between it and the house. About twenty rows wide, it stretched back for some distance, almost to the edge of the tree line that marked the informal edge of Sweet Apple Acres. The rich, brown earth was neatly plowed, and each row was headed by a small stick with an empty seed packet placed on top. The pictures on the front of each packet were long faded, washed out by the summer rains and long hours of sunshine, but the plants poking up in each row were well developed and no longer needing such identification to announce themselves.

“Greenbeans, cabbage, lettuce, radishes, squash…ick.” Sweetie Belle made a face as she walked past the head of that row. “Carrots…hey, Apple Bloom, how come you grow carrots? We just buy ours in town from Golden Harvest.” She sat back and closed her eyes, rubbing her belly with her forehooves. “Mmm-MM! She always has good carrots.”

“Ah know. But ah think ours are better.”

“Huh?” Sweetie Belle bent her head for a moment, sniffing. “They smell the same.”

“Yeah, but mah Granny Smith grew these.” A small smile touched Apple Bloom’s face for a moment, and she struggled to find the right words. “She comes out here every spring, when Big Mac’s done plowin’ the garden up, and plants it all herself.”

“Granny Smith planted all of this??” Scootaloo stared down the long rows of vegtables. “By herself?”

“Ever’ year, while Big Mac an’ my sister are workin’ down in the apple orchards. She let me help her this spring, cause I’m a big pony now.” Apple Bloom blushed proudly. “She let me dig the holes and even plant some of th’ seeds, but she wouldn’t let me cover ‘em up.” The yellow filly shook her head, her hairbow bobbing gently. “She said yah had to be careful when you put the seeds tah bed, or else they wouldn’t wake up and grow proper.” She stopped there, suddenly mindful of what Granny had said to her next.

“Unicorns has got magic all tied up in their horns, and that’s why they’re always runnin’ about with their brains in a twist.” The white-haired mare had leaned over and tapped Apple Bloom’s foreleg twice. “An Earth Pony’s only got a little magic, and that’s right there down in their hooves, if they’re canny enough to find it and use it in the right place.”

Apple Bloom had lifted her forelegs up, staring at them in mingled suspicion and wonder. “Ah’ve got magic hooves?”

Granny Smith had laughed, the sound clear and wonderful in the fresh, spring air. “Maybe so, little one. But it’s up to you to find out how tah use ‘em.”

Apple Bloom started abruptly, shaken out of her reverie as the pegasus filly beside her emitted a piercing whistle.

“WAKE UUUP!” Scootaloo shouted at the garden. “Come on out and jump in the wagon already!” She pawed at the dirt restlessly with a forehoof and turned to see her friends regarding her with a wary expression. “What?”

“They’re just vegetables, silly.” Apple Bloom felt suddenly foolish. “C’mon,” she said, standing up and trotting over to the first row of greenbeans. “Let’s get tah work before mah sister comes over here and sees you talkin’ to a cornstalk.”

Sweetie Belle giggled and followed after her, leaving Scootaloo perched on her scooter behind them and wearing a pained expression. “You said they were asleep…” The pegasus filly leaned over and kicked a hindhoof to set her scooter in motion, fluttering her wings as she towed the wagon over to the beans.

“Ah said we just put ‘em to bed. They wake up on their own and grow.” Apple Bloom craned her head up and began carefully picking the beanpods off of the first plant with her teeth and dropping them in the wagon. “They’re just stupid ‘ol plants anyway, they don’t really sleep.” She felt a slow flush creeping up under her eyes and over her cheeks, the heat having nothing to do with the sun overhead. Beside her, Sweetie Belle quietly picked beans away from the second plant in the row, avoiding eye contact with either of her friends.

The three fillies worked their way slowly along the row in silence, Scootaloo pulling the wagon along in short hops, with Apple Bloom only speaking up now and again to correct them when they came to a spot here and there where the beans weren’t quite ready to be harvested yet. They paused once at the halfway point to let Scootaloo haul the filled wagon over to the barn where a row of baskets had been laid out for them by Applejack.

Apple Bloom watched the pegasus filly for a moment, her ears twitching as the faint squeaking of one of the wagon wheels carried across the air. Turning back to the beanstalk before her, she grabbed another mouthful of the pods and tugged it free, a few leaves coming with it as she dropped the clump to the ground.

“Careful, don’t break it,” Sweetie Belle offered timidly.

“Who cares, it’s just a dumb ‘ol plant anyway.” Another fat clump of beans hung just out of reach. Rearing back on her hind legs, Apple Bloom swiped at it with a champ of her jaws, but the pods remained just out of reach. Placing her forehooves on the stalk, she shook the plant angrily, watching the offending prize dance about over her head. “Stupid, stupid plant!”

A rush of wind made her duck suddenly, and she crouched down in reflex, emitting a startled squeak of alarm. A thudding sound shook her, and she opened her eyes to see Scootaloo standing beside her, wings fluttering from the jump she had made, the beanpods gripped carefully on one side of her muzzle. The lavender-maned pegasus dropped the beans in front of her and touched Apple Bloom on the shoulder gently with her nose.

“Hey, look. I’m sorry.” Scootaloo shuffled uncomfortably, her wings tucking in close to her sides. “I wasn’t making fun of your garden, or Granny Smith or anything, honest. It was just a stupid joke. I’m always making stupid jokes.” Her tail drooping, the little filly stared at the ground. “I really just wanted to hurry up and get everything done so we can go buy the stuff and fix our clubhouse so we can hang out and do cool stuff together.” Swallowing heavily, she sniffled and looked up at Apple Bloom. “Please don’t be mad at me. You two are my best friends in the whole world.”

Apple Bloom stood frozen for a moment, then touched her friend’s forehoof with her own. “Ah ain’t mad at you, Scootaloo. Ah just felt outa sorts, ah guess. It’s okay.” She offered the little pegasus a grin. “Shoot, ah probl’y would’a ended up pickin’ these dumb ‘ol plants anyway. But at least I’m doin’ it with the coolest friends in Ponyville!”

Scootaloo scrubbed her eyes with a foreleg, her features brightening. “Yeah! Hey, if we can finish all this today, maybe we can get our cutie marks at this. You think?”

Sweetie Belle’s features drew up in a broad grin. “A harvesting cutie mark? What would that look like?” She laughed suddenly. “Rarity would freak out!”

“Ah don’t know, let’s try it!” Apple Bloom drew back her foreleg, and in unison, the three clapped their forehooves together and let fly with a shout that boomed through the rustling plants beside them. “Cutie Mark Crusader HARVESTERRRS!”

The sound carried easily across the open yard to the front porch of the house where Granny Smith sat in her rocker, the old chair creaking softly as she leaned back and forth. Big Macintosh poked his head out of the half-door beside her, a couple of nails tucked into one corner of his mouth. “What in the tarnation are them kids up to?”

“Do’ins,” Granny said, and chuckled to herself, her old eyes twinkling with memories. “Jest do’ins, Big Mac. Let ‘em be.”

Comments

[Mobius of the Moon]

Stuff like this is always awesome... if well written. And this fits the bill.

[DMDash71]

144352

Thank you! I appreciate it. Writing for the little fillies is tough, I'm doing my best to keep it honest. :)