The Only Day

by naturalbornderpy

First published

Today is the worst day of my life. Today is the best day of my life. Today is the only day of my life.

Wednesday, 26th: Autumn Paradise started work on the farm today. I think she'll fit right in.

Wednesday, 26th: Autumn Paradise started work on the farm today. She seems a little tense, but does she ever know her way around an apple tree.

Wednesday, 26th: Autumn Paradise started work on the farm today. She says she's spent the last two days here, but I don't remember seeing her at all.

Wednesday, 26th: Autumn Paradise started work on the farm today and wouldn't stop crying. She says she can't find a way out.

Edited by spigo.

Wednesday, 26th

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Wednesday, 26th 8:00 P.M.

Sweet Apple Acres had itself a new guest today. Her name’s Autumn Paradise and she’ll be filling in while Big Mac takes a rest. I knew one of these days he’d try to carry something even bigger than him and hurt himself. I’ve told him before and I’ll tell him again. Stallions can have such a hard time asking for help. But heck, even I’ve done silly stuff like that.

Autumn Paradise came by a little while ago after seeing the wanted ads around town. She said she could work anytime over the next three weeks. Having just finished school, she’s been traveling around Equestria. I asked her why she’d want to spend her vacation time on a farm, sweating buckets in the sun. At that, she smiled and said, “I thought it might be fun to try.”

Well, she’s not wrong on that account. Bucking apples is always fun, if you know what you’re doing.

The first thing I noticed about the mare was her mane—yellow and white striped and tied near the ends. I asked her if she did that on account of my mane, but she said she’s always worn it like that.

I like this mare already.

We started the day early and after I passed down the family secret bucking technique (free of charge this time), Autumn took to the chore with ease. I might’ve labeled her as a tad uppity once we’d met—she’d said she’d been studying for some degree or whatnot for years, ending with an essay thick enough to prop open a barn door—but all that changed once I saw her get to work. That mare’s not afraid to get her hooves dirty or her mane in a tangle.

I wonder if we’re related.

“You ready for lunch, Autumn?” I asked around midday, as she kicked away the last couple apples from a tree.

She turned to me, breathing hard. “Already?”

Needless to say, that girl got herself two desserts that afternoon.

During lunch, I asked her about herself, soon discovering she’s the type that takes a bit of gentle poking to get more than a few words from. Manehattan is where she’s from; lived there all her life. She told me she planned to write a book one day—what about, she didn’t know yet. She says she likes Ponyville well enough and I told her when she had the time, I’d show her around the place. Our town might seem small compared to the likes of Manehattan, but I thought maybe ending our tour at Twilight’s bright and shiny new castle might earn us some points.

They got castles in Manehattan? I ought to look that up.

“After being kept so busy with school, I felt the need to try something different,” Autumn told me, as we made our way back out into the field. “Something new. Maybe something a little reckless.”

I cocked a brow. “You call apple bucking reckless?”

She giggled. “No, not really. I mean traveling alone. I’ve never left home for this long before, but once I start my job, I doubt I’ll have all that much time to myself. If you have the time, you should use it as best you can. ‘Never waste a day,’ my dad used to say.”

I nodded. “That’s some sound advice, Autumn. You ready for round two?”

And with only a gentle grin out of her, I knew she was ready for more.

Heck, I really liked this mare. Maybe I’ll try and convince her stay in town for a while.

***

Wednesday, 26th 8:00 P.M.

Sweet Apple Acres had itself a new guest today. Her name is Autumn Paradise and although she might act a tad peculiar from time to time, she seems practically made for apple bucking.

“Good morning, Autumn,” I started, meeting her outside the barn. “You ready to start the day?”

She smiled and nodded. “Sure am. Where we starting today?”

She’s got drive, I thought. Let’s see how well she bucks apples.

“We’ll start in the south field and work our way around.”

Her smile dropped a bit. “Haven’t we done that field already?”

“Nope. It’s all ripe for the picking.”

She opened her mouth to say more, then trotted ahead of me. I hadn’t even shown her the lay of the land yet, but she found the area I was talking about only a minute later. At the head of the field, she stopped and took in the view.

Such a thing I wouldn’t have mentioned at all. Some mornings, with the sun up and its bright rays warming each apple tree, I can stand and stare for five minutes straight—the fruits of my family’s labor for miles around. Only instead of anything like that, Autumn’s staring at our trees as if one might start tap dancing on the spot.

I strolled up beside her. “You all right, sugarcube? I know it might look like a lot, but if we work together, it shouldn’t take us more than a day to get done.”

She didn’t turn to me. “But we’ve already done these trees. We did them all.”

“What are you… ?” I started, but before I could say anymore, she went to the first tree in the field and stood by its side, shaking it with her hooves. A single apple fell by her side and she picked it up, studying it like some foreign object.

She held it out to me. “Is this some kind of joke your family plays? When I left here yesterday, all these trees were empty.”

I shook my head. “But you weren’t here yesterday.”

“Yes, I was, and we spent most of the day in this field.”

I chuckled. I didn’t know if it was first day jitters or if the first mare to answer our wanted ad happened to have a couple screws loose. Either way, I was going to have a story to tell Big Mac later that day. But I still needed help if I wanted to get all the chores done in time.

I held a leg out to her. “Look, don’t go getting intimidated. I’ll show you the best way to buck and I’m sure you’ll—”

While I spoke, Autumn did a quick spin and shot out both back legs, hitting the nearest apple tree in the sweet spot. In that one kick alone, most of the trees’ apples fell to the dirt, leaving six lone apples left on the branches.

My mouth dropped. “You bucked trees before?”

She huffed a bit of mane from her eyes. “Yes. Yesterday.”

“Where?”

Autumn ignored my question and gathered the buckets by the head of the field. Each time I tried to explain what to do next, she seemed one step ahead of me. I shouldn’t complain. Really, I shouldn’t. A good worker is a good worker… even if said worker acts a little strange. Maybe it’s nerves. Maybe in a few days time I’ll get to know her better. Regardless, we had a lot of trees to do and a very full day ahead of us.

Odd introductions aside, for all her hard work, that girl got herself two desserts that afternoon, even if she looked at the second helping like some bowl of poisoned soup.

Introductions can be hard. Good thing ponies only need to make them the once.

***

Wednesday, 26th 8:00 P.M.

Sweet Apple Acres had itself a new guest today, although I can’t say I’m all too happy about it. When I met her a week ago, she seemed nice and excited to get to work. The mare I got today didn’t seem much the same. Her name’s Autumn, by the way. Hard to say if she’ll be coming back tomorrow.

I saw her coming up the trail to the house and even before I opened my mouth, she’d already asked me a question.

“What day is it?” she said bluntly, as the sun suddenly didn’t feel as warm as it should've.

I rubbed at one leg. “Well, it’s Wednesday.” I paused. “You ready to—”

“Start the day in the south field and work our way around?” Her voice was tense, and as she took a step towards me, I nearly took one back, instead keeping my ground.

I slowly replied, “That was the plan. You okay, Autumn?”

She angled her head to stare at the fields behind me. “No. Not really.” Her eyes found mine again. “The trees in the south field are full again, aren’t they?”

I think I might be working alone today, I thought. “Yep. That’s why they need to be bucked.”

Autumn gazed at the ground and muttered, “Yesterday was Wednesday. The day before that was Wednesday. Now today is Wednesday—the same Wednesday.”

I rubbed at my leg again. “You need a glass of water or something?”

“I need some time,” she told me. “I need some time to think.”

I made one last ditch effort to save the long work day ahead. “Any chance you could think while bucking apples?”

Without another word, Autumn turned and wandered away. I wasn’t all too sad to see her go, even as my workload for the day doubled before me. I only hope she finds the time to think about whatever needs thinking about.

Maybe I’ll try and find extra help tomorrow.

***

Wednesday, 26th 11:32 P.M.

Sweet Apple Acres had itself a new guest today and, as good as she was, I really wish she’d just go home already. Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself. Her name is Autumn Paradise, an earth pony that answered an ad I taped up around town. She arrived early and got to work without me telling her a word—bucking the trees like she’d done it a thousand times before.

“You grow up on a farm, Autumn?” I asked in silent astonishment.

“No,” she replied, and from then on in I knew she wasn’t the most talkative of mares. But that’s fine. Not everyone needs to chat away the day. As long as she got the work done, she could keep her lips as sealed as she wanted to. If only she left after the work was done.

It’s almost midnight and as I look out the window now I can still see her sitting in the south fields, staring at the first tree we emptied that morning. I went down to her hours ago and asked if she wanted to go home or at least come inside to warm up.

To that, she said, “I’m waiting for the apples to come back.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “You might be waiting a while, hun.”

She wouldn’t take her eyes from the tree. “No. They’ll be back at midnight. If I’m still here, that is. So far I haven’t been awake at midnight.”

Weird or not, good workers were hard to find. “You might want to try for some sleep, Autumn; plenty more to do tomorrow.”

She nodded and said no more. I left her like that—watching and waiting for a tree to suddenly sprout apples in the darkness of the night.

Why do all the good ones have to be so odd?

***

Wednesday, 26th 8:00 P.M.

Sweet Apple Acres had itself a new guest today. Yep. For all of thirty-seconds.

“Good morning, Autumn,” I started, meeting our new worker outside the barn. “You ready to start the day?”

It didn’t seem she was, as she stared at me with red-rimmed eyes. “You told me before that you’re friends with a Princess. Twilight Sparkle, right? Where does she live?”

My mouth hung open ajar. “When did I tell you that?”

“Today. Or yesterday. Or several days ago. It doesn’t matter.”

“I… umm… she lives in the castle at the edge of town. It’s also the town library.”

She nodded, rubbing a hoof under her eyes. “I thought so.” Then she turned and began her way down the trail away from the farm.

“Aren’t you supposed to help with the apple trees today?” I called to her.

“I already did,” she shouted back.

Some ponies, I thought. Rather meet the local celebrities than try their hoof at a little hard work.

***

Wednesday, 26th 7:00 A.M.

Sweet Apple Acres had itself a new guest today, and I hope she enjoys the three months of community service she earned herself.

I awoke early in the morning to the sound of chopping from the fields. The sky was still dark and the stars were still busy twinkling away. Carrying a lantern, I wandered out to the source of the noise and found a half-dozen apples trees sprawled out along the dirt, hundreds of wild axe hits around their trunks.

“Autumn Paradise?” I asked, keeping my distance from the mare with the axe held firm in her jaw.

She slowly turned to me and then went right back to hammering on the latest tree to receive the axe’s wrath. By the blade’s dull shine off the moonlight, I knew she must’ve taken it from the barn. It was hard to tell in the gloom, but if I didn’t know any better, I’d say she was crying. She was hammering at them so hard, I’m pretty sure I saw blood on her lips.

What are you doing!?” I yelled at her.

She let the axe fall to the ground and sucked in some air. She sat beside the axe and glared at me. “You won’t remember any of this tomorrow.”

I huffed out both nostrils. “You bet I will! What makes you think you can just come here and chop down our apple trees?”

She laughed softly, sending a chill up my spine. “Because I’ve become rather sick of bucking apples, actually.”

She must be a few planks short of a barn, I’d thought, carefully scooting the axe away from her.

Autumn looked at me and I could barely recognize the pleasant mare I’d spoken to only a week or so ago. Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks as she quivered out a breath.

She asked me, “Why can’t I find a way out?”

***

Wednesday, 26th 8:00 P.M.

A mare named Autumn Paradise was supposed to help out at the farm today. She never came. That’ll teach me not to take the first pony that offers their help. I saw her around town later in the day, but pretended not to notice her.

***

Wednesday, 26th 8:00 P.M.

A mare named Autumn Paradise was supposed to help out at the farm today. She never came. That’ll teach me not to take the first pony that offers their help. I saw her around town later in the day, but pretended not to notice her.

***

Wednesday, 26th 8:00 P.M.

A mare named Autumn Paradise was supposed to help out at the farm today. She never came. That’ll teach me not to take the first pony that offers their help. I didn’t even see her around town today.

***

Wednesday, 26th 2:30 P.M.

I felt the need to write a little earlier than I usually do today. The chores are only half done and I know I’ll be spending the rest of the day and some of the night getting them finished, but after the conversation I had this morning, I really don’t think I could concentrate until I wrote it all down.

A mare named Autumn Paradise was supposed to come work at the farm today. I went down to the barn to greet her, but found someone else there instead. Sitting on a bench along the stoop was an elderly pony with a pure white mane and a coat of light green, maybe a couple years younger than Granny Smith. As I spotted her, she smiled thinly. Not wanting to be impolite, I did the same and went to her.

“Can I help you with something?” I asked.

“I don’t think so, although you’ve tried before.” Her voice was clear and calm—the voice of someone much younger. She patted the empty spot on the bench next to her. “Could I trouble you for a few minutes of your time?”

I looked to the trail in front of the house. No Autumn Paradise yet. I turned back to her. “All right. For a little while. Do you have business with the Apple family?”

She smiled again. “I’m afraid not. I only want to talk a bit. You’ve always been a good listener.”

I slowly took a seat beside her. “Have we met before?”

“Yes,” was all she said to that. She busied herself scanning the acres of apple trees well into the distance. “You know how hard it is to get somewhere in twenty-four hours? To get up at midnight and see how far you can go? I always wanted to travel, and I have. Sometimes I get to where I want to go and sometimes I’m on a train in the middle of the night and midnight strikes and I find myself back in my bed—back in Ponyville, where everything’s the same and everything starts anew. My family lives in Manehattan. If I’m lucky and start early, I can spend a total of ninety-one minutes with them. I get to their doors and hammer on them. I know it’s late and I know they’re tired and don’t understand why I’ve come so far to see them like I have, but I do. And when they answer, I hug them tight and I make them stay awake until the next day. Until I’m brought back here again.”

The mare sighed, her brittle smile collapsing on itself. I tried not to stare; kept my eyes on the fields ahead.

“For twenty years I went to see them,” she continued, “several days a week. I had to stop when I got too old. All they’d do is worry about me and try to rush me to a hospital. But all that was happening to me was natural. You grow old, and that’s that. It’s quite a dilemma, having parents younger than you.”

I found I had to cut in by that point. “Why are you telling me this?”

“To pass the time,” she said evenly. “You’re one of the only ones that lets me talk and talk and rarely asks why. It’s nice, even if you never understand much of it.” She glanced at me. “Today is the worst day of my life. Today is also the best day of my life. It’s the only day of my life anymore, although not all of it is bad. There are four stallions and two mares in this town that I’ve gotten to know very well. I’ve learned to say the right things and make the right moves at just the right times and I’ve spent many wonderful nights with them. Although, it’s difficult, to be wrapped up tight in someone’s embrace only to never be able to wake up beside them; to start every day with that special somepony never knowing you existed; to have everything you worked so hard to accomplish in just a day get swept away in an instant.” She hitched in a breath. “I don’t want to hate them for forgetting me, but sometimes I can’t help it. Sometimes I want to do such bad things to them… because I can… and because I know I can get away with it… and that no one would remember, soon enough.”

The old mare faced me, slowly eyeing me up and down. “There was even a day, many years ago, that I found the right words to wind up with your lips held to mine.”

A blush rose on my cheeks and I nearly jumped off the bench. “All right, now. You’ve have your say, but I really should get to work. So you need to—”

“It’s the little things that sometimes hurt the most,” she continued on, as if she hadn’t said anything strange. “I brought only a single book with me when I came here, so if I want a new one, I need to buy one and remember where I left off. I started a series once—an adventure series—but don’t think I’ll try one again. It hurts knowing I’ll never be able to know how it all ends.” She chuckled dryly. “There’s a play in town—for this week only. It’s not very good, but I must have seen it close to a thousand times by now. Each time, I tell myself it’ll be the last time I do, and then a few days later I find myself there again. Ponies laugh at the actors and I feel a little better. Just a little bit.”

Just as I opened my mouth to mention the idea, the mare spoke again.

“A long time ago, you told me to visit your friend Twilight Sparkle. I placed all my hopes in her and sadly here I sit, looking this way while you all stay the same. I don’t blame her, though. She is sweet and she is smart and each time I come to her, explaining what’s happening to me, she tries everything in her power to help me escape from today. Truth be told, I am nobody special—an Earth pony and nothing more. Yet I have met more royalty and Princesses than most ever will. Twilight always brings me to Canterlot to speak with Celestia and Luna. Sometimes even Cadence becomes involved. Surrounded by such powerful beings—such brilliant ponies—I allow myself to hope again. For years I went back to her, again and again and again and again, and it always ends up much the same. There’s not enough time; too few hours in the day to stop what’s happening. I had to stop seeing your friend when I felt at my lowest. To be given such hope everyday, only for it to be stripped away from you the moment the next day begins. To repeat and repeat and repeat. Sometimes there’s just nothing that can be done and for the most part I’ve accepted that.”

With my mind in a whirl, I sat down beside her again. Her eyes took on a far away look. “If you’re in trouble, then I’m sure I could help. All my friends could. You just need to explain to me what’s going on.”

The mare patted my leg. “I know you would. You’re all very kind. I’ve come to know you all very well, along with most of this town. A lot can happen in a day, even if none of you will remember me for it.” She returned to staring at the fields. “Death has always frightened me. It’s an absolute. Or I still believe it is. If my aging has taught me anything, it’s that death is still possible. I’ve been tempted to test this before, but I am far too cowardly. There’s still a small piece of me that believes this’ll all end tomorrow… that I’ll actually see tomorrow. As much as I want to believe in such a thing, I very much doubt it.” Her eyes began to water. “Perhaps the hardest part is knowing that I’ll never leave a mark on this world and no one will remember my name or call me a friend. Anything I do will only be erased by the next day. I’ll never write a book or finish a song or even flesh out a single idea. None of anything I think of will ever be recorded. Sure, they’re in my head, all the time—dancing and twirling and begging to me to write them down… to tell someone about them… but I can’t. This game won’t let me.” Large tears began to roll down her cheeks. “That’s what I’ve called it since the beginning: a game. A very long one; one that I’ve played fair and one that I’ve played dirty and one that I’ve played every way you can. But in all my years, I’ve never been able to cheat it. It’s impossible, it seems.”

Despite her tears, she pointed with a hoof and laughed.

“I remember when I chopped down all your trees one morning. I really should’ve started closer to midnight. My mouth was so cut up by the time you found me out there.”

For the first time since sitting beside her, I finally noted the color of her coat, as well as how she tied up her mane. Not wanting to believe the first thought that came to mind, I went with the more possible answer.

“Are you related to Autumn Paradise?”

She thought for a moment. “Sure. But I should be going. I only have the one day, so I’d better get started if I want to get anything done. ‘Never waste a day,’ my dad used to say.” She stood up sluggishly, eventually finding her hooves again. “I’m glad this conversation went better than the last one.”

“What does that mean?” I started, although the mare seemed not to hear as she leisurely strolled away.

I watched her go and then waited for Autumn Paradise. I gave her twenty minutes and started the chores myself, the whole time pondering on the conversation I’d just had.

Something told me I wasn’t done with that mare.

***

Thursday, 27th 8:00 P.M.

I went into town for supplies and saw a gathering of ponies in a field. From the street, I could see Twilight and the rest of my friends, standing side by side and looking down. I crossed the street and went to them, hopeful I could convince some of them to help around the farm. That Autumn Paradise never did show up.

“Hey, Twilight,” I greeted. “What are all you ponies doing here?”

Twilight turned to me. “Someone died last night; an older mare sitting on a bench near the center of town. Ponies are saying she was watching the sun set when she passed away.”

Twilight was about to say more, but I cut her off as I pushed through the small gathering of ponies. At the edge of them, I found what they were looking at and my heart sunk. In a hastily made coffin was the older mare from before, her white mane left hanging on her shoulders and a gentle smile on her face.

I slowly went back to Twilight. “I know that mare. I only talked to her yesterday. She wasn’t making much sense, but she seemed nice.”

Twilight nodded solemnly. “That’s what ponies have been telling me—that no one even saw her in town until just yesterday. I was working on an experiment I thought would take me most of the day, and that mare just knocked on my door and told me what needed to be changed. Then she said she had more to do and left.”

I viewed the rest of the crowd, most whispering between themselves. Must have been close to half the town in that small field.

Rarity came to join us. “She did something for me too. Right when the shop opened, she came inside and gave me a roll of fabric I’d been hunting for days around town. When I tried to pay her, she said my thanks were enough and that she’d have the money back tomorrow. I even heard yesterday afternoon she stopped Scootaloo from getting into an accident on her scooter. She hit a bump in the road and that old mare had already set up a small hill of pillows for her to fall into she bought from a store. How she knew what Scootaloo was going to do, I have no idea.”

I asked Twilight, “Is that why everyone’s here? Because she did something for all of them in one day?”

She nodded. “I guess so, Applejack. You said she talked to you, too. What did she say?”

“That I was a good listener, and that she wanted to be remembered.”

Rarity said, “With how many ponies are here, I think she will. What was her name again, Twilight? I can’t seem to recall.”

“Autumn Paradise. That was what she told Apple Bloom when she added that extra plank to her clubhouse. She said it wasn’t all that safe to begin with.”

I felt the air escape from my lungs. “Autumn Paradise?”

Twilight tilted her head at me. “Yeah. Are you all right, Applejack?”

I went to the coffin again, my eyes welling up with tears. The more I tried to understand, the more I couldn’t comprehend. I set two hooves on the wood, my tears spilling along the ground.

“I’m glad you finally got to see tomorrow.”