A Letter to Applejack
Dear Applejack,
My name is Apple Tart. You might or might not remember me from a long time ago, but we met once. By my name, it’s not too difficult to tell that we’re akin somehow but mother never told me. I’ll just say we’re some degree of cousins. Just in case you don’t remember me, I’ll just recall how I remember you.
It was the Apple Family reunion, about 12 years ago. I was about 7 and I believe you were about 12 years old. I remember this only because of one factor. My mother, on the way to Sweet Apple Acres, told me that your parents had died just the year before and demanded I not mention it to anypony while we were there. I was kindly petrified the whole way over, worrying that somehow the topic would slip out of my awkward tongue, and that I might offend you, or even worse, make you sad.
When we got there, half of the family had already arrived. All of the fillies and colts had already gotten together and were playing games. I had just realized how big the Apple family was, being that I didn’t know any of the cousins my age. I was very shy at that time, and quietly sat at the sidelines to watch everypony play. I guess you caught sight of me because you stopped the game just to invite me over to play with everypony. So I did. I know it may seem like nothing, and you may not even remember it, but it meant the world to me that you did that. I thank you.
The kids our age stayed separate from the adults most of the day, carrying out our own conversations. The topic about our lives at our homes finally came around. You didn’t say anything. I felt really bad for you, but no pony was going to bring it up.
That is, until lunch started.
Everypony was sitting at the giant, Apple family-sized table and enjoying all the apple treats everypony had made. As the children found places to sit with their parents and the elders said their prayers to Celestia, we started to dig in. I was especially delighted to know that everypony liked the tarts that I made that year; made them all by myself might I add. I don’t know which course we were on, but most everypony had quit talking and focused on eating. That is, except Pappy Apples. Pappy was getting very old, and everypony knew it, so when he asked how you and Mac were holdin’ up without your parents, nopony said a word. You could have heard a pen drop… in Saddle Arabia. Nopony even chewed their food. And while we were just as uncomfortable as a wet cat, everypony looked at you and awaited an answer.
I personally thought you were going to start crying and run away to the comfort of your aloneness, but you didn’t. You looked down at your food, and then looked him in the eyes and said loud and clear, “Well I reckon me and Mac miss ‘em a bunch; but missin’ ‘em don’t bring them back. Apple Bloom is still too young to understand, but Granny helps taking care of her. Me and Mac work the farm just like Paw taught us, and as long as we work hard, I b’lieve we’ll do just fine.”
Nopony said a word after that until the meal was over. Some had to grab tissues from their purses, and others had sad looks on their faces. But everypony knew from that point on that you and Mac were the strongest of our family. And we were damned proud to be Apples.
That night, everypony left the reunion after having a great time. Every branch of Apple family there offered anything from help, to food, to bits and anything in between to support you guys, but you kindly turned them down. You were too proud to accept handouts, and claimed that it would shame your paw to take any. You told everypony to come back any time, and thanked them for coming that day. I heard you when we were leaving saying, “C’mon Mac, we got work to do tomorrow.”
“Eeyup.”
When I got home that night I knew that I wanted to be just like you. I wanted to be strong and brave, even when faced with the toughest problems, and be able to fix them with hard work and determination.
It would be a few years later that I got that very same opportunity to be like you.
9 years after the reunion, my parents also died. My mom went first; she died of the cancer. Mom never liked the doctor and dad never had the money to pay for it, so we never knew until it was too late. After that, dad didn’t do well without her. I kept going to school, but I couldn’t focus well after mom died. My grades dropped until I just quit going. When I stopped going to school, I found dad drank more. Excessively, you might say. There was one night I couldn’t go to sleep, so I went downstairs to check on dad. He wasn’t in his bed, which got me worried. I eventually found him in the garage, sitting in a chair, staring at a rope on the floor. It would take me a few years to understand why. He died 4 months after mom did. Doctor never found anything wrong with him but I always knew.
So here I was, 16 years old. No parents, no more immediate family, and no hope. I thought about giving up. I thought about taking the rope dad always kept in the garage and putting that tree out in the front yard to use. I thought about starving myself to death. I thought about sticking the biggest knife we had through my heart. And then I thought about you. I thought about how strong you were when the same thing happened to you. I thought about how hard it must have been to find a way to support not only yourself, but also your siblings and your Granny.
So amongst a puddle of my own tears, I decided I would be like you. I would press on and not let this ruin my life. I would make something of myself. The only problem was, I had no idea how. Then the idea hit me.
I took what little money my parents left behind and bought a guitar, and a train ticket to Las Pegasus where Aunt and Uncle Crisp lived. I would learn the guitar like I always wanted to and become a rock star. So with the guitar, the ticket, and 100 bits to my name, I was going to be the mare of the town.
I guess now is a good time to admit that I never fit it very well in Las Pegasus. Most ponies were… pegasi and I was a simple Earth pony. Aunt and Uncle had me going to school again, which I didn’t mind. The kids at school never really hung out with me much, but I was going to be famous soon, so it didn’t really matter.
It took 3 years to learn how to play the guitar well enough to play anywhere. I literally just learned a few songs. The local pizza shop always let me play there, and with a good crowd of 20 ponies, I would get about 20 bits of tips on a good night. That is the only place that has ever let me play. Aunt and Uncle Crisp take real good care of me, but last night they told me I needed to get a real job and pay a little rent. Being 19, I saw their logic and realized that I do need a job. So I set out to find a job. No one would hire me. I don’t know why. I really tried hard Applejack, I really tried.
I got home and told Aunt and Uncle that nopony hired me. They sighed with disappointment dripping off of their faces. That’s when they told me that you were recently given the title of the Element of Honesty. I couldn’t believe it, a pony kin to me, was an Element of Harmony! I wanted to celebrate, but Aunt and Uncle just used it to ask what I had done with my life. Then I heard Uncle say something about how my parents would be ashamed of me when he walked off. Applejack, I never cried so hard in my life.
Today I went to play at the pizza shop, but I was so sad that I couldn’t sing a note, and I got booed off stage. I got emotional, and cried the entire walk back to our house. When I got home, there was a letter for me in our mailbox. I opened it up and read it. It read like this,
“Tart,
You are the most untalented pony who I have ever heard. You need to quit your singing and guitar playing and stick to your day-job, if you even have one. What is an Earth pony even doing in a Pegasus city anyways? Why don’t you quit being stupid and quit your life while you’re at it? Ya know, I hope your parents never come down to see you perform. I’d bet they would be ashamed as all hell.”
Applejack, I need to confess to something. I brought something else with me other than my guitar and bits. I also brought dad’s rope.
I wrote you this to say that I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me, but I never was very good at being you.
--- Apple Tart