48. Party Pooper Level Five
The Tale of Lord Barleycorn
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Chapter 48: Party Pooper Level Five
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For Twilight, it was an unexpected delight to turn her mind’s eye toward a familiar subject: magic.
The pressure of organizing several locals and a few Ponyville native unicorns and teaching them a medical-grade cleaning spell was immensely preferable compared to leading a fresh, barely tested honor ritual for spirits she had no understanding of.
Secretly, Twilight needed this. The skeleton, the wraith that called itself the Mari-Lwyd had unsettled Twilight more than she cared to admit.
For the time being, casting a narrow but powerful beam across the doctor’s medical tools was more than enough to give Twilight a sense of ease.
Her friend’s presence also helped. They were doing their best to clean in their own limited way. Although the clinic was already cleaner than it had ever been, Rarity and Pinkie were giving it their all to make the old building as clean as it possibly could be. Fluttershy, who had the most experience with medical care (though it was more along the lines of veterinary care) was ensuring the wooden rafters were free of anything that could fall from above and into the operating area.
Only Rainbow and Applejack weren’t present. As incredulous as it might have been, Twilight had a hunch that Applejack was still sleeping off her last visit to the Rusty Nail. As for Rainbow’s whereabouts; Twilight was less certain. In fact, she hadn’t seen the pegasus since the Mari-Lywd appeared.
Twilight sighed, feeling the mental pinch that came with magical strain as she finished her task. A quick survey of the clinic showed it to almost look like a totally different building. The townsponies had donated their oil lamps for extra illumination, allowing light to touch corners of the clinic for the first time in decades. The dim store was now brightly lit, and an area had been fenced off with large drapes of cloth, rigorously cleaned by Rarity and donated by Cross Stitch, the local tailor.
Even the air seemed to be cleaner. The musty scent that permeated everything was now nonexistent, and the thorough cleaning with alcohol had given the wooden building a smell reminiscent of an actual hospital.
The doctor himself had helped very little. He had also kept out of the way of this impromptu cleaning crew, busying himself with setting his implements out to be sterilized, checking a small steel tank of what Twilight had to assume was his anesthesia, and looking over a tattered medical book.
The state of the textbook made Twilight’s inner librarian scream. The cover’s edges were worn down to the thick cardboard, the spine was disconnected from the binding, and she swore she saw an actual ring where somepony had set a coffee mug on one of the pages.
It took everything she had not to rush over and rescue this poor neglected repository of knowledge from its uncaring master. Instead, Twilight finished her task; cleaning the surgical thread for a third time.
“Are you certain about the amount? It seems a little high for such a young patient.” Lord Barleycorn said as he moved next to the doctor, “I’ve also not heard of this chemical compound.”
“Her weight, age, tribe, and thaumatic scores have all been accounted for.” Dr. Nova gave the tank valve a quarter twist, then when satisfied with the hiss, turned it off. “Earth Ponies need on average ten percent more anesthetic than others, and this is fairly old somnambuline. Considering all these factors I’m more than likely undershooting.”
The scarecrow nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer.
Twilight meanwhile simply found herself watching the two. The very idea of Lord Barleycorn assisting in a complex surgery had her mind spinning in a completely different direction. The two had been discussing this procedure in all its minutiae, even to the point where Twilight had to admit she was completely lost.
The question remained, however; why did Lord Barleycorn, a spirit or creature of Autumn know such detailed medical knowledge? It just didn’t click. The only thing that was keeping Twilight from simply asking was the vague, unspoken threat of offending some spook that was invisibly looking over her withers at the moment.
“All done,” Came Pinkie’s unusually serious voice, “Any cleaner and you could eat off the floor… which I wouldn’t recommend because it’d be filthy again.”
Terrible a joke as it was, Twilight still felt a smile creep onto her face.
Pinkie, along with Rarity and Fluttershy had gathered close to her, having finished their assigned tasks. The clinic was still not exactly what Twilight would have called fit for surgery, but considering the patient’s delicate nature it was the preferred option.
“Thanks everypony, I know it’s a cold comfort but this is about as much as we can do to help in this situation.” Twilight glanced over at the doctor with an uneasy feeling in her chest.
As much as Twilight wanted to believe he knew what he was doing, it was hard to ignore what she knew about his behavior.
A look at her assembled friends and their equally unsettled looks told Twilight they felt much the same way. The doctor hadn’t done much to engender much confidence during their stay in Hollow Shades--and unlike their previous adventures, there wasn’t a magical artifact or simple solution that would remedy this young filly’s condition.
A heavy knock caused all motion to cease as nearly a dozen eyes turned toward the wooden door at the front of the clinic.
There was a moment of hesitation, but Twilight was surprised that the doctor moved without a second thought to the door and flung it open. On the other side was Summer Harvest, who seemed to be doing his best to keep himself tall and proud despite the nervous tremble in the corner of his mouth.
Cherry stepped aside, a stern expression on his face as he barked out the word “Stretcher.”
Reacting to the emergency more than the grumpy doctor’s order, Twilight easily levitated the canvas panel over. With careful, gentle manipulation she had learned moving Spike to bed without waking him, she guided the sick little filly from her father’s back and onto the floating stretcher.
Summer Harvest eyed the stretcher with the intensity of a hawk as it floated back toward the prepared operating table. His face was hard and his ears were folded against his head as he flicked his attention between the doctor and the scarecrow.
Cherry Nova however was quick to press a clipboard into the farm pony’s hooves, “Here, sign here.”
Summer squinted down at the mess of small, typed words on the slightly discolored paper, “What’s this? Never had to sign nothin’ when you came ‘round before.”
“You never had money to actually pay me, and this is a bit more complicated than stitching your leg. I’m not going to do this for a basket of flavorless mushrooms, either.”
A hot snort ripped from Summer’s muzzle as his eyes ran over the legal words on the paper. The way he was squinting was something Twilight had become very familiar with as the Ponyville librarian. She reasoned he was so far-sighted that he could barely read the paper, and she doubted the stubborn old stallion had the bits to afford a proper pair of glasses. She also doubted that if he had them, Summer would ever actually wear them.
Whether he could read it or not, Twilight saw the farmer sign his name and shove it back into the doctor’s hooves. From the look on his face, Twilight gathered that Summer would have preferred to shove the clipboard somewhere else.
Cherry didn’t even look at the signature. He gripped it with the tip of his wing and slipped it onto a nearby counter.
“Good, now if you don’t mind this is a time-sensitive procedure. Step outside and leave me and the…” Cherry Nova’s eyes flickered to the scarecrow then back to Summer, “thing.”
Something akin to panic shot across Summer’s face as he looked to Lord Barleycorn like the scarecrow was suddenly going to hurl thunderbolts or transform into a monster. Of course, neither happened. The same gangly, musty-smelling creature continued to stand impassively by the doctor’s desk.
The farmer’s ears pinned back for a brief moment before he recomposed himself.
“He looks like he’s trying to get himself geared up for another jab at the doctor… I better step in.” Twilight thought as she approached the two stallions.
The sound of Twilight’s approaching hooves brought the oppressive tension between these two stallions crashing down on her, but Twilight bore it the best she could. It was best that she offer a segue to get this exchange to end without more harsh words.
“Erm, doctor, we’re done sterilizing the operating area and equipment.” Twilight stated, “It’s as good as can be.”
The doctor’s expression that had been teetering on a soft boil cooled to a tepid sort of tolerance that Twilight had known as his prevailing state of emotion. With a snort Cherry turned his head to glance in the direction of the operating table, where the young filly was now nervously heaving in slow, labored breaths.
A slight tremble rattled the old farmer’s foreleg before he tore himself away, marching out the door and into the street.
When the door finally slammed shut Cherry let out a bemused grunt, “Well, at least he chose to avoid any four-letter words this time. The rest of you can go too. I can’t waste any more time telling you all the obvious.”
With that, Twilight and her friends excused themselves.
---
When the Ponyville visitors and Summer Harvest had finally shuffled out the door, Cherry let out a huff and turned purposefully toward the operating table.
The creature dressed in the scarecrow remnants was by the table, running its scrawny hand through the filly’s mane as she slowly heaved in painful breaths. It was hardly professional, but it seemed to calm the foal.
One final glance at the area showed everything was in order. Surgical equipment was freshly sterilized and covered with an equally sterile cloth, the suction unit was putting away and ready to do its task, and the electric razor to clear the foal’s coat was arranged neatly next to the antiseptic bottles.
The Princess of Friendship might have been a nosey, irritating bookworm but it was clear she knew how to impress. Cherry brushed this aside, there was one final matter to attend to. While the creature under that burlap sack continued to whisper its gentle reassurance to the foal, Cherry brought out something that he hadn’t needed in years.
Cherry hesitated in blowing off the old reel to reel tape recorder he’d kept in his desk, for fear of contaminating the entire area. Instead he set it on his desk and pulled the long, thick wire for the microphone to the surgical tray.
“When you’re done, begin the general anesthesia,” Cherry stated.
“Is this… gonna hurt?” Corn Crib rasped, barely a whisper in the empty clinic.
‘Lord Barleycorn’ patted her head as he reached for the face mask attached to the anesthesia canisters, “Nah, it’ll just be like going to sleep. When you wake up, it’ll all be over.”
The foal still looked uncomfortable as the scarecrow fitted the mask around her face, and a squeak and a hiss signaled the flow of gas.
“You’ll be better then, I promise. Just count backward from one hundred.” Said the Scarecrow.
The filly looked up at the tall creature, and began to count, “One hundred, Ninety n…”
The scarecrow shook his head, “Not even to the second nine. Are you sure this is standard-grade anesthesia?”
“It’s not out of date or an overdose, I assure you.” Cherry stated, taking out a surgical marker and began tracing a large rectangle on the filly’s side, “I never fool around with anesthesia.”
The scarecrow gave a nod as he rolled up his sleeves, and proceeded to wash his hands in the stainless steel sink. Despite having so many little appendages, ‘fingers’ if the good doctor was remembering correctly, his impromptu assistant was aggressively scrubbing them from every angle.
‘Lord Barleycorn’ however still found his attention drawn to the microphone set up next to the surgical tools, “You’re going to record the operation?”
“It’s standard procedure. Helps to prevent malpractice and provides some insurance in case you get accused of it. ” Cherry said, choosing not to mention how if the surgery had anything noteworthy he might be able to send it to the medical bureau as a teaching aid and receive a cash return.
For something so blase as the foal’s condition it was as likely as finding out he was a long lost heir to the throne of Equestia but the odds weren’t zero.
Starting the reel to reel, Cherry motioned for the supposed nurse that was to assist him to begin shaving the area he’d indicated. While the buzz of the eclectic razor began, Cherry touched the recorder and began to speak into the microphone.
“Patient is a prepubescent filly, suffering from acute cecumitis. Dr. Cherry Nova presiding over the operation at…eight forty-two PM. Assisting is…” Cherry paused looking at the creature in the mask.
Whatever it was under that mask, Cherry didn’t know. He didn’t know anything about this creature, but the sights he had witnessed only minutes ago had shaken what he felt were solid foundations. The ponies of this town had always been superstitious, and talk of spirits had quickly gone from quaint to annoying in the space of an afternoon. He could only be certain of one thing: the medical board would ask a lot of questions about his guest assistant over anything Cherry accomplished here today.
“Nurse Barleycorn. Patient has already been sedated using oxygen nitrous gas, and an area of her coat has been cleared. Final preparations are underway.” Cherry gave one last look at the human and took his turn at the sink.
It’d been a long time since he had to cut into another pony.
---
Perhaps it was the remnants of whiskey in her system finally being cleared away, but the autumn chill seemed to finally reach Applejack’s sleepy brain. The skin-prickling sensation of a chilly waft of cold air caressing her neck triggered some unknown reflex in her muscles, and with one powerful jerk, she shook herself awake.
For the briefest of moments, the apple farmer forgot where she was. The hard wooden crate was not her bed, and this wasn’t her room. Panic made her jolt upright, and all at once the world all the day’s events flooded back into her memory. She rubbed her head as if it would soothe away the awful mental pinch the Hollow Shades alcohol had left as a farewell present.
There was a sensation of her lilting to one side, and Applejack quickly corrected herself. Despite being known for having two pairs of sturdy legs, Applejack felt as unsteady as a newborn foal. She forced a breath, hoping the crisp, fresh air would help. If it did, it was so marginal an improvement it wasn’t worth mentioning.
As she recalled, the whiskey had been good but waking up in an alleyway after the sun had gone down would undoubtedly affect her ability to recommend it to anypony.
The fact the moon was up and shining just above the horizon made the normally assiduous Applejack feel even worse. She could almost hear Granny Smith berating her for being lazy and sleeping away an entire day. That lecture was firmly engraved on Applejack’s memory, having heard it often enough in her youth, and aimed at her siblings.
What surprised her was the hush that had fallen over the town. She had known Lord Barleycorn to have the entirety of Hollow Shades in abuzz with a song or story, and even when it wasn’t the streets were full of ponies. Neighbors should be chatting with friends, haggling should have been occurring at the merchant tables, foals should have been playing and hollering. Instead it was as quiet and subdued as a funeral.
From the alley Applejack couldn’t see any sign of the tall scarecrow or any form of supernatural visitor. Her friends were also absent, leaving Applejack to wonder what had happened to get the entire town acting like this was a library.
Upon spying who was sitting on the boardwalk in front of that lush of a doctor’s clinic, Applejack nearly backpedaled into the alley.
There on the wooden planks that lined the street sat Summer Harvest, who looked like he had his jaw set so tight he’d be needing the services of Equestria’s best dentists to undo the damage. His wife, whom Applejack had encountered what felt like minutes ago was leaning against him, and looking like the only reason the stallion hadn’t gone off on anypony.
Sitting a healthy distance from his parents was who Applejack had to assume was Leadfoot, their eldest foal. A small twinge of embarrassment flitted through the Apple as she realized this might have been the first meaningful memory of her cousin. He looked dead tired; his coat was pockmarked with dried dirt as if he had just come in from the field. His head was drooping against his chest and was clearly fighting to stay awake.
In her condition, Applejack knew she was in no shape to handle an encounter with Summer Harvest again. She sank back into the alley, ready to travel through the back of the stores until she could be out of Summer’s line of sight. It was a cowardly plan, but a practical one. A plan that would have worked if a familiar shade of green hadn’t caught Applejack’s attention.
A split second was all it took to recognize Granny as she was walking toward the clinic, or more specifically right up to Summer Harvest. Not wanting to be anywhere near that fallout with a head full of alcohol, Applejack continued to back up.
She sat on the dirt pathway and closed her eyes, attempting to push the fog in her head away with nothing more than the crisp autumn air and a lot of willpower. It didn’t really speed up her recovery, but focusing like this did make Applejack feel a modicum of improvement, imagined or not.
Headache or no, the sound of several sets of hooves caused Applejack to stop her little ritual and stand up on all fours. She relaxed when she saw the familiar shapes and colors of her friends as they filed into the alley, and mercifully cut off her view of the street.
“Hey, feeling any better?” Twilight ventured, seeming a little uncertain.
“Ah’m fine,” Applejack croaked, needing to clear her throat to try again “Ah’m fine, just a bit groggy.”
Applejack tried to sit without slamming her flank on the hard ground and keep her head held high, but she couldn’t help but sway on her front legs. Her stomach felt a little queasy, but thankfully it wasn’t enough to feel she needed to get a bucket.
“Honestly, Applejack, have you been here all night?” Rarity asked, sounding more than a little shocked, “Out here in the open?”
Applejack frowned, “Ah know, everypony in town prolly thinks Ah’m a lush fer passin’ out in plain view, like sum Manehatten dock worker. But, as long as Ah ain’t made a total fool of mahself Ah’ll survive.”
One by one the other mares looked at each other, the same uncomfortable silence that hung over the streets now seemed to come roaring into the alley.
A knot began to form in Applejack’s throat, “What’s with ya, did sumthin’ happen?”
“Well…” Rainbow began,” Let’s say things got pretty crazy…”
“Crazy is an understatement.” Rarity said under her breath.
“Let’s… focus on the most recent news,” Twilight said, trying to avoid the events from earlier, “What’s important is that little filly is having her operation here, right now.”
Applejack shot a skeptical glance back at the clinic, “You mean… he’s doing it?”
Twilight nodded, “We had to help prep the clinic for surgery, but yes. I know what you’re thinking, but while we were working it seemed like he was taking it seriously.”
“If you say so, I couldn’t follow anything Lord Barleycorn and he were talking about.” Said Rainbow, “Incision that and extra abnormal… obese whatever…”
“External abdominal oblique muscle. It’s here on your side.” Twilight patted the side of Rainbow’s barrel, “They have to cut in here to perform a cecum flush.”
“Wait, back that cart up.” Applejack interrupted, “You said Lord Barleycorn’s helpin’ in there?”
Twilight nodded, “He and the doctor were discussing the details of the surgery in exact technical detail. Honestly, some of it was outside my sphere of knowledge but it sounded like they both were giving Corn Crib’s health the attention it deserves.”
Applejack didn’t know what to think. From a very young age, Granny had started her on what became lifelong acquaintanceship with old ghost stories. She was familiar with no less than a dozen named spirits that she could name even with alcohol clogging her brain. Yet not once could she ever recall in all the years of tall tales, stories, and legends that Granny loved to tell, nothing approaching ‘helping with surgery’ had ever come up.
“An’ none of ya’ll think that’s weird?” Applejack asked, feeling silly the moment the question fell from her lips. “Of course not, none of the stuff we’ve seen here has made a lick’a sense.”
Rainbow sighed, “Trust me, we know.”
“I know it's a lot to take in, but the good news is your cousin is getting the help she needs.” Twilight pointed out.
Applejack wanted to continue addressing the utter absurdity, but ultimately she relented with a sigh, “Ah ‘spose yer right. An’ it explains why Summer’s over there lookin’ like he’s sittin’ on a pinecone.”
“Can you blame him, though?” Asked Rarity.
Applejack shook her head, “If it were Applebloom in there, Ah’d be all that an’ prolly worse.”
“And suffice to say, without our master of ceremonies and with a life-or-death situation going on in there, the mood’s been nearly ruined.” Rarity sat, curling her coiffed tail around her leg, “I think everypony’s keeping quiet to not distract the good doctor while he’s working.”
Pinkie frowned, “Mmhm, and that means it’s a perfect time for Twilight to show everypony the ritual she’s been working on.”
“You mean taking everypony into the Everfree, at night, this close to Nightmare Night, after just seeing the Mari Lywd?” Applejack asked, wanting to give Pinkie every chance to admit she was joking.
True to form, Pinkie didn’t so much as bat an eyelid, “Yup, every veteran party planner knows that when the PP5 event happens, you relocate to a new PZ.”
Everypony simply stared at Pinkie, having no idea what she was talking about.
Twilight rolled her eyes and decided to jump on the grenade, “‘PP5?’ ‘PZ?’”
“Party Pooper level five, and Party Zone, try to keep up with me.” Pinkie said matter-of-factly, “Since the whole party’s hit a huge bump, we gotta find something new for everypony to focus on and get their minds off this seriousness.”
Pinkie quickly glanced over at Summer and his family, “Obviously it won’t work for everypony, and maybe it shouldn’t. But honestly, there’s no need for everypony to be sitting around moping around in the dark.”
Applejack always felt a little uneasy whenever Pinkie made a lot of sense. It was like the universe enjoyed pulling the rug out from under Applejack’s hooves when she got a little too comfortable thinking Pinkie was overly silly all the time.
But that raised the question, which Fluttershy was the one to voice; “But is it safe to go near the woods at this time of night?”
Twilight closed her eyes and scrunched her muzzle for a moment, seeming to Applejack like she was trying to calculate something that really should be done on paper and not in somepony’s head. In the end, Twilight shook her head as if she had given up on whatever she’d been thinking.
“To be honest, everything I’ve seen since coming here has been against what I normally would consider the norm for Equestria. Even the Everfree doesn’t seem to act like it’s reputed to act.” Twilight paused to look back at the water tower, which remained still and silent, “And the more I think about it, the more I feel like there’s some other force working here. And as much as I don’t really like flying by the seat of my pants, I think that overthinking things is probably the wrong course of action here.”
Applying the ‘It’s just Pinkie Pie’ line of thinking to an entire town? Applejack could understand that after hearing that a figure straight out of Granny's big book of scary stories was up and walking around.
Still, Applejack had to ask; “Say uh, where’d the Mari Lwyd go?”
“That’s the craziest thing; it just sorta… walked away?” Rainbow scratched her head, she wasn’t the best when it came to describing things she couldn’t understand, “Not like it just trotted out of town but it just suddenly was out of town, then the horizon, then just gone in the span of three steps.”
So it wasn’t here? Applejack heaved out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding in. Just knowing it wasn’t here was a huge load off her mind.
“Scared the dickens out of everypony, I reckon.” Applejack chuckled, trying to move past this topic.
“It was terrifying.” Twilight shuddered, “But, everypony in town seems sorta… alright with it.”
Another look over the withers of her friends confirmed it. Despite imagining those flashing eyes and that bony face that Granny so loved to describe, Applejack saw that Hollow Shades wasn’t quite as sullen as she initially thought.
The market tables were still doing business, though with noticeably less produce than before. Foals were chatting excitedly in hushed tones to avoid reproach from their nearby parents, and even the older ponies seemed to be more animated as they seemed to be telling stories to anypony who’d listen. While the mood was indeed dampened by the ongoing surgery, it seemed it hadn’t completely brought the night to a dead stop.
“Well, Ah guess doin’ that ritual would get a lot of pony’s minds off things…” Applejack ventured, “How do we start this?”
A lavender flare of Twilight’s horn and the costume appeared, folded as neatly as a bundle of misshapen patches could be folded.
While Twilight slipped into her costume, she began to explain her plan “Well, considering this has a lot to do with the performing arts, I need to make a bit of a show of this. That’s where Rarity and Pinkie came in real handy.”
“A little light magic from me, a little music courtesy of Pinkie, its foal’s play really.” Rarity smiled.
Pinkie only nodded.
Twilight continued, “I perform a simple cleansing ceremony, then lead a procession to the Standing Stones where I perform it again. It’s all incredibly theatrical but that’s half the point of it.”
“An’ Ah’ pray that’ll put the local spooks to rest fer the night.” Applejack sighed, “Ah’d hope not to hear about any other spirit frum Granny’s ol’ books showin’ up. Ah’ve had about all Ah think Ah cin take.”
There was a near-snapping sound as Twilight hastily crossed her forelegs. The look of trepidation on the alicorn’s face was something that surprised and to some degree, terrified Applejack. She knew Twilight as a staunch advocate of logic, a mare who held nearly no faith in superstitions, and yet here she was acting like crossing her forelegs was the only thing keeping her safe.
Worse, Applejack found herself struck by the intense urge to not look over her withers.
“So… um, when ya’ll plannin’ on startin’ this?” Applejack asked slowly, very slowly.
---
Harvest Moon liked to think of herself as a patient pony. Being a parent twice over she felt it was a trait any mother had to acquire to retain her sanity. However, that saintly virtue flew out the window when it came to the well-being of her children.
Knowing that her daughter was lying on an operating table under the care of Dr. Nova of all ponies was taxing her reserves of patience in the extreme.
More than anything she wished for the power to walk into Dr. Nova’s office and carry her daughter back home, healthy and happy again. Such magic had to exist, she felt it deep in the core of her being.
For all her worry, being able to cling to Summer in this time of need was perhaps the only thing that could calm her. She’d done this on big storms, on nights when she had gone to bed without food so her foals could eat, and when she could hear the Timberwolves roaming the forest. He was her rock when their proverbial seas were rough. Now she did it not because he could somehow make this all better, but because she knew her presence comforted him as well. For all his bluster, he was just as scared as she was.
This cozy moment could only assuage her fears for a short time. The procedure would require several grueling hours in which she would inevitably stretch into years of worry. Reluctantly, Harvest Moon resigned herself to wait.
Slumped onto the boardwalk beside her was her son, Leadfoot. His eyes closed, but he wasn’t yet asleep. Harvest Moon knew her son and could tell he was just uncomfortable enough and just cold enough to not be able to slip into the land of dreams. She could have nudged him to share in this moment of familial apprehension but she genuinely hoped he would sleep.
If he fell asleep, Leadfoot could skip all the worry and go right to the point where they all go home happily ever after.
As envious as she was, Harvest Moon found it hard not to be conscious of the fact that she and her family were all out on the boardwalk and not in the doctor’s waiting room.
While it had seemed like a simple enough thing, the fact of the matter was that she did not want to be within earshot of everything. From the technical yet tolerable talk between Lord Barleycorn and Dr. Nova, to the utterly unforgivable sounds of her daughter being cut open. Out here in the cold, at least she was spared from sounds that she’d hear in her nightmares.
All things had their price, and the price for such peace of mind was a lack of privacy. Harvest Moon might not have been able to live with the sounds of the operating room on the other side of the shop shelves, but that didn’t mean she was comfortable with the multitude of eyes on her and her family.
Around them were friends and neighbors, many of whom were trying their best not to gawk. Yet every time Harvest Moon would cast her attention across the crowd she’d find somepony who hastily averted their gaze. It may have been her imagination, but she also thought she heard whispering about her family too. She knew they had the best intentions, that these words were being spoken with as much kindness as possible, but the attention was as unwelcome as it was unsettling.
Harvest Moon nudged her husband, seeming to snap him out of his worried reverie.
“I think I’ll get some coffee. Do you want any?” Harvest Moon asked softly.
“I’m awake enough already, but you go ahead.” The Harvest patriarch then looked over at his drowsing son, “But maybe bring him back some. He might need it to get home.”
With an affirming grunt Harvest Moon disengaged herself from her husband’s side, gave a stretch to force life back into her chilly muscles, and slowly began to trot toward Tablecloth’s.
No sooner had she left the boardwalk did Harvest Moon feel the attention drifting along with her. There were momentary hitches in the conversations around her, as the pretense of normalcy was dropped and then hastily picked back up. The attempt by her fellow residents to respect her privacy was commendable, but at the same time, Harvest Moon felt that having one of them just come forward and get their aid politely declined.
As per usual the homey little restaurant was busier than it had been in years. Every table was packed, with only a few spaces at the bar available. A quick look around revealed that there were a few new waitresses moving between the tables. Harvest Moon took a moment to marvel at it. She’d seen the same two mares busing tables for over seven years, and that was cut down from three when Elder Turnip’s youngest pulled up stakes and left town for the big city. The idea of Tablecloth’s actually hiring anypony new to work here, even temporarily, was a remarkable sight.
Seeing no other option, Harvest Moon sat down at the bar between two unfamiliar faces. No sooner had she started to wait did she realize that Tablecloth’s newfound prosperity came at a cost. Even with the new waitresses rushing about, she’d have to wait. To make things worse, with so many ponies out at this hour, they might not have any coffee at all.
Heaving a sigh, Harvest Moon rested her chin on the vaguely lemony-scented counter and watched the frazzled wait-staff dart between table and kitchen. She let out a yawn, then quickly sat up and shook her head. She couldn’t fall asleep now, she’d never forgive herself if her family had to come in and get her when the operation was over.
Still, there was little to focus on besides the various odors from around her. The kitchen had been spitting out anything it could to keep up with demand, and there seemed to be several ponies who seemed confused with the breakfast special.
“Catfish sounds really good night now…” The farm mare thought with envy as she watched a mulberry-coated mare cautiously poking at her portion of golden-brown fish with the fear and wonder of a bomb disposal pony.
The stallion next to Harvest Moon shifted, placed some bits on the counter, and left. Harvest Moon paid him as little mind as the one late-season fly that was roaming around the dining room like an excited foal.
She took a breath, perking up as the waitress at last approached her, then passed Harvest Moon on her way to the kitchen. A pout formed on the umber mare’s face as she felt herself slumping back onto the counter. Maybe if she harangued Maple, her usual waitress, a little she could get away with a sliver of pie to perk herself up a little.
It was sheer fantasy to believe that Maple Syrup would ever give away free sweets, but it was a nice fantasy to indulge in, if just for a moment.
The all-too-familiar sound of a ceramic mug being dragged across a countertop, coupled with the aroma of cheap but strong coffee caused Harvest Moon’s eyes to snap wide open. There in front of her was a steaming mug of dark coffee, but Maple was all the way on the other end of the counter scribbling down another order.
Instead of her usual server Harvest Moon found the aging Granny Smith grinning at her with a twinkle in her eye. Despite the late hour, the nearly ninety-year-old mare was looking as wide awake and chipper as a foal on Hearth’s Warming eve.
“Ah saw ya come in. The filly they got on staff’s a tad swamped and ah figured ya needed a perk-me-up sumtime be’fer sunrise.” Granny explained, “Came with mah meal, an’ I dun need it. Not strong enuff.”
Harvest Moon took a sip and instantly knew why. It stood to reason that everypony here would want a cup, and with the amount of business Tablecloth’s was getting, they had to be running out of things. The near-lack of acidity in the drink told her this wasn’t coffee. It was dandelion root, cleaned and roasted and steeped like tea. She detected a hint of acidic aftertaste, likely Maple had used coffee grounds to give it a little more impression of being real coffee. It tasted fine, but it likely had the same amount of caffeine as a glass of milk.
“Thanks Granny. I did need this.” Harvest Moon smiled as she took a sip of lukewarm faux coffee, “Where’s your granddaughter?”
Granny gave a dismissive wave of her hoof, “Gettin’ sum rest, she needs it. Care fer some company?”
Harvest Moon glanced at the vacant seat next to her, then shrugged.
With a fair bit of effort, Granny Smith was able to pull herself up onto the bar stool. After a habitual complaint about the lack of padding for her old hip, Granny heaved a sigh that seemed to push all the negativity from her aged body. Within moments she was just as effervescent as before.
“I’m guessing you enjoyed, erm, the visitors we had last night.”Harvest Moon said, hoping to get the ball moving again.
“You kiddin’? Ah ain’t seen nothin’ like that in all mah life!” The Elderly mare beamed, “‘Was like one of mah grampy’s ol’ stories come to life.”
It may have been an inordinately late hour, and the circumstances incredibly stressful, but Harvest Moon felt happy for the old mare. It seemed in every way that a foalhood wish had been fulfilled, and Harvest Moon felt her heartache in desperation for even a portion of that joy.
Granny let out a sigh before turning to give the younger mare a thoughtful look, “You looked like ya needed sum company..”
“I suppose so,” Harvest Moon looked down into her coffee mug, “I just wish it was over already.”
“Ah know what ya mean, worryin’ about yer kin never is never easy.” Said Granny.
Harvest Moon cast a sideways glance at the older mare, “I wouldn’t say that around Summer if I were you, but…”
“Ah mean I worry exactly like y’all doin’ each tahm Applejack goes off with her friends on some adventure,” Granny stated flatly, her chipper attitude rapidly evaporating.
“Adventure?” Was all Harvest Moon could really get out.
Granny Smith grumbled as she rubbed the back of her head, “Right, ya did say ya had a hard time gettin’ word from the rest of Equestria. But ‘long story short; ever since Twilight Sparkle came to Ponyville mah granddaughter’s been off to all manner of places. Appaloosa, the Everfree, dragon caves, Canterlot…” Granny snorted at that last , “An’ usually Ah don’t hear none ‘bout it until she’s back, covered in scrapes and eager to spin a story fer us around the table.”
“I have heard a bit about that from ponies from out of town, it sounds like a very… lively place to live.” Harvest Moon pinned her ears back as she sipped her brew.
Granny let out a sigh, “Some of it’s innocent enough, but if’n Ah knew about some of it Ah’d put mah hoof down and forbid her to go. Ah’ve already lost one foal, if Ah lost another Ah dun think Ah could handle it.”
Where the Apple matriarch had seemed lively and full of life before, she now reminded Harvest Moon of a late-autumn flower bitten by frost. Granny’s posture had sunk, the color of her coat seemed greyer somehow, and even her wrinkles seemed to deepen as she spoke of that worst fear of any parent; the loss of a child.
Harvest Moon had only met Bright Mac a few times and it was now many years ago. The sands of time had worn down her memory of that nice stallion. Life had taken precedence over preserving Bright Mac’s image in her mind, but nevertheless, he was somepony’s son.
“I’m sorry,” Harvest Moon blurted out, “I didn’t mean to bring that up.”
“Don’t apologize.” Granny huffed, “Ah’m just as worried fer yer filly. Despite all the fuss Summer an’ his pa’ve gone through to separate themselves from us, they’re still family. Even if he don’t want it, we old timers all worried ‘bout cha.”
Harvest Moon blinked, “The other Apples talk about us?”
“When we get together, you an’ yers get brought up at least once.” Granny then shrugged, “‘Course we don’t get much news ‘bout ya but it don’t stop us from prayin’ fer ya.”
Harvest Moon had never given the Apples much thought. It was a topic she had tried to quash before it came up, on account of her husband’s open animosity toward that distant relation to their family. She herself had always focused on her family, their farm, and the worries of providing for the next day.
While she could admit that Summer’s behavior toward the Apples wasn’t right, was pretending they didn’t exist any better?
It didn’t feel like it.
“We’ll… need to fix that.” Said, Harvest Moon.
Granny gave the younger mare a smile, “We’ll see how that goes.”
Granny then craned her neck up, looking at something outside the restaurant, “Well would’ya lookit that.”
Now that her attention was off of Granny, Harvest Moon realized that nearly everypony in Tablecloth’s was staring out the boardwalk facing windows. She needed to crane her neck a little past the point of comfort to see over the sea of heads, but what she saw out in the middle of the street was… at first Harvest Moon thought it was a pony desperately trying to out from under some of old lady Knitting Needle’s ugly quilts.
For a brief moment, Harvest Moon thought this was some new spirit making itself known. A good omen, perhaps. The lavender horn protruding from its forehead and the large wings upon its back made it blindingly obvious that it was Equestria’s newest princess. That’s when Harvest Moon remembered hearing that Twilight had been working on something regarding the Standing Stones.
Taking her plate in hoof, the mother of the Harvest farm ate her rapidly cooling fish as she watched the mare outside dance about in a strange hopping manner. She would ring what looked like that old iron hoofbell that looked oddly familiar, then place a candle on the ground and light it with her magic. Unlike any normal candle, these seemed to flicker with greens, purples, and blues, like the flames didn’t know what color to be anymore. She’d never seen anything like this in all her life, and from the way everypony was murmuring, it didn’t look like they had either.
The bell was shockingly loud for its size, and rang clear and piercing even through the glass of the large boothside windows.
Stirrings of old foalhood memories continued to swell as she watched the young princess dance and hop around. Old Lady Knitting Needle used to yell at foals who got near her prized quilts after a young Bean Sprout got mud on her best patches. She and her friends used to dare each other to ring the bell hanging in the old Purslane place. Many Nightmare Nights the older foals would dare each other to sneak into the old abandoned house and ring the old hoofbell in the kitchen. Some of the smaller bells attached to the costume were from Violet Tea’s now broken sleigh, and the feathers could only be from that old stuffed peacock in old Mr. Chicory’s living room.
Gaudy as it might have been, it was like the whole town had donated a part of itself to that costume.
“I can’t tell if the pony who made it was supremely talented, or a complete amateur.” Harvest Moon thought, “I hope all the stories about that bell being haunted were just stories. ”
Outside, Twilight had successfully lit all four candles in each cardinal direction and had begun to dance from one candle to the next. The wild tangle of ribbons, feathers and bells all created a bizarre blur of visual sensation between the heavy shadow of night and the shifting colors of the candles. It was oddly haunting as if some magic was spilling out of the forest and washing over the young princess, guiding her motions.
The bell rang again in the center of this circle, and Twilight raised a bronze or maybe brass candle snuffer. Another ring from the bell silenced all other noise within the restaurant as it was brought down on one of the candles. With a sharp flick upward the smoke of the drying flame curled upward, drifting high as it caught the wind and contorted into wild shapes.
As if sensing the collective will of the crowd, Harvest Moon left her seat with the other patrons to get a better view of the spectacle outside.
The only ones who hadn’t left their seats were the ones who were already seated in booths near the windows, having already the best seats in the restaurant. All, except for the Apples who were still sitting in their corner booth, now virtually excluded from the unscheduled festivities.
Applejack was sipping her third mug of not-coffee when her grandmother hobbled back to the booth they were sharing.
“How’s she doin’ it, Granny?” Applejack asked, trying to sound alive.
“Better than I hoped, but not as good as Ah’d like.” Granny let out a grunt as she sat down in the hard booth, “‘Course Ah’d be more disappointed if’n she wasn’t a bundle a nerve if her yun’un was sick.”
Applejack nodded in understanding, “So… what now?”
“Welp, Ah’m gonna wait n’ see what Twilight’s up to with all this, then get to bed. Far too late for me.” Granny snorted as she glanced down at the absolutely sad excuse for an apple pie in the corner of the menu, “Then afterward, see that ol’ stallion they got runnin’ this place. Thinkin’ an anonny-mous ol’ mare might donate sum money to this here town.”
Applejack blinked, “What do ya mean?”
Granny cocked a smile at her grandchild, “Well, Summer’d be right mad if’n Ah gave him so much as a howdy-doo, Ah figure a little money that might fix this place up…”
“Might get back to him in some way.” Applejack nodded, finally realizing what Granny was talking about.
Granny gave a pleased nod. Her granddaughter could be so smart. Granny chose to leave Applejack to chew on that thought while she went to go watch as Twilight began to hop, or maybe prance it was hard to tell, toward the forest.
---
To be continued
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An early Christmas gift! It's very good to see this update.
You live! Take whatever time you need, just happy to see you're still working on this.
A late Samhain miracle!
The surgery is ongoing. Did we ever get a clear picture of what was wrong with her? Gall or liver issue?
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Inflamed cecum.
Enlarged? Infected?
It's great to so this updated again! Hopefully there will be no complications with the surgery.
It's alive, it's alive!!!
Thank for your update and please care for yourself,i don't want anyone give up writing because life,always love this story,good job
Always a joy to hear from you.
Now comes the dread wait of surgery, the time spent knowing full well that despite all your desire to help or make things better, its all ultimately out of your hands leaving you a nervous wreck.
Very nice to see another chapter for this story. Especially impressive considering the year you described. We all look forward to what comes next, whenever you feel like continuing.
Thanks so much for the update! I'm glad to see the tale of Lord Barleycorn continues!
Thank you for this update!
Each chapter is a gift we do not need, that we do not need give up anything for.
Your work on this is highly valued, regardless of how long it takes. Take your time.
Take care, and godspeed.
WOOHOO!!! I love seeing this story update. I wonder how the spirits will respond to Twilight's ritual? Well I hope, and I do hope there are actually spirits in the woods and it's not just Celestia and Luna having a lark at everyone's expense. I guess we'll have to wait until next chapter to know, and now if Corn Crib is okay. Thank you for continuing to update this story!
I am so glad that you're still around. I'm sorry to hear you've been having a rough year. While I won't go into the details, I've not been having the best of years either so I can sympathize with the clusterf*ck that 2023 has been. Seriously, to hell with this year.
Thank you again for continuing to update this story and here's hoping the next year goes better than this last one has.
Now that attention’s being drawn to the story again, I’d like to throw my hat into the “princesses or spirits?” ring. Honestly, think it’s both.
The princesses are definitely involved, since Twilight sent Celestia a letter. At the end of A Little Birdie Told Me, the two fillies are without a doubt the sisters. The two lights that talk to Barleycorn in Greetings, Dear Pretender are also likely the sisters. Plus, Maud showed up in Hollow Shades while working for Celestia.
However, the various spirit appearances seem beyond what the sisters would orchestrate. Especially with the black goat and Mari Lwyd. I don’t Celestia would go that far to terrify her citizens or Twilight.
A while back, when Twilight sent her letter to Celestia, she got the reply:
I propose that the diplomatic matter she’s involved in is working with the spirits, assisting them in having the belief in them being rekindled through the actions of themselves and Lord Barleycorn.
I certainly hope the spirits are guiding Twilight because Lord knows she can't dance...
Glad to see this story continue! Hopefully you’ll be able to finish it and rest
I always enjoy these updates. Please keep it going to the end.
The spirit never truly fades, wonderful to see this update.
I did miss this story very much, it is simple, wholesome and relaxing to read.
*rises from the dead!* THE STORY HAS RETURNED!!
Fantastic update. The wait was worth it! Hope you’re doing well and not stressing too much over getting these chapters out. Looking forward to the next one already.
I hope she does pull through. Might be some actual intervention at the rate twilight is going and what with lord barley getting actual blessings.
Actually had goosebumps for a moment, later on.
Welcome back once more!
Thanks for the new chapter!
I found this story when it was only on chapter 2, and I've always looked forward to the continuation.
It's great to see another chapter!
Best of fortunes to you.
Aw man, this is getting pretty rough for the harvest family. With things taking a downward turn it really feels like things aren’t going to go well.
I’m suspicious of you, sir, Cherry said it would be easy a few too many times in the past for me to think there will be no complications…
Jack is going to have to end up asking for a favor, isn’t he.
I am continually intrigued, involved, and thankful to you for writing this story. The Tale of Lord Barleycorn has been an all-time favorite of mine, not just in the fiction genre but as a whole.
It's awesome to see this story continue. As always we hope you have great fortune in the coming new year
HUZZAH 🙌 an UPDATE!!!! Thanks for your hard work!
Honestly love this story, it's amazing that it's been running for over a decade now.
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my god I didn't notice that.
not really pleased with that revelation.
Still hoping The Winter Queen is real and just shows up basically saying "Hey brother,hows it going?" and Jack just plays along.That'd be funny
This was a very pleasant surprise to come back and see an update to one of my fav fic!
Will the surgery go well?
What will Twilight's ordeal lead to?
And will Applejack ever get over her hangover?!
Love it love it love it.
Also the bit of CornCrib going under reminded me of when I had Anesthesia. I only got to 8 before I lost it.
Very accurate in how you told it.
11779605
I've had experience with it. But I took more inspiration from the old Bill Cosby records my dad used to play for me. Specifically the one where he got his tonsils taken out.
"I didn't even make it to the second nine, I was so pitiful."
I may barely get back to the site these days to read, but this is one of the few reasons I do now. Thanks for the chapter!
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Maybe I’m misunderstanding this, but it seems like River Stone is saying he beat himself at the game.
11823785
I see it now. It was late and my brain wasn't working at full speed. I'll get it fixed.
This is a great story.
This song seems relevant to an alternate scenario where things may have not gone so well for our costumed altruistic friend. (This is for the story in general, not necessarily this chapter.)
(Crash Test Dummies: The Ballad of Peter Pumkinhead) Originally by XTC