Thursday, June 30, 2016

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Today's Horoscope (Virgo): Family is always a part of you, even when they're gone.

Early Morning

Tomorrow's our last day at Sweet Apple Acres, and we're going to have a big feast.

At breakfast, Applejack says, "Well, hope y'all can get along without me today. Ah got a whole mess'a filin' t' do." She grumbles. "Dagnabbit, Ah hate all this paperwork crap."

"I'll help if you want," Twilight says brightly. "I can even reorganize your entire filing system to—"

I cough into my fist. "Actually, I think Shining Armor needs your help in the cornfield today. At least, if you guys want fresh corn on the cob tomorrow."

"But you could do that," Twilight protests.

"Twilight, you already organized her filing system once," I say. "I don't think you need to go back and change the whole thing again." I glance at Shining Armor, then back at Twilight. "Besides, I think you two need some time to talk."

Twilight frowns and shoots her brother a glare. I nudge her in the side. "Twilight."

Twilight sighs. "Yeah, okay."

I look over to Applejack. "I can help with your filing," I say.

Applejack smiles gratefully. "Much obliged," she says. "It ain't hard work so much as it is jes'...long an' mind-numbin'. Might go quicker in good company."

"More of us could help then," Sunset offers.

Applejack glances at her, then shakes her head. "Nah. Ain't room fer more'n two in Pa—in the office."

"Yer office," Big Mac says pointedly.

"Anyway, you girls all have a lot to do to get ready for tomorrow," I say. "I don't mind helping with the drudge work. I think I've had my fill of the hard labor." I grin; everyone chuckles.

Once breakfast is over and everyone has their chore assignments for the day, I follow Applejack to the small upstairs business office.

Daytime

There doesn't seem to be an end to the sorting, stamping, and filing piled up on the desk. Past orders, copies of invoices, tax forms, budget sheets, inventory forms, trade contracts with other farms, and stuff I don't even understand is piled up all over the desk. Applejack has a dozen or so collapsible folders lined up in a row on the desk, held in place by metal bookends, and is sorting forms into them. I'm organizing paperwork into piles and stamping and stapling anything Applejack tells me to. "I never knew there was this much paperwork involved in running a farm."

Applejack sighs. "Ah didn't either," she says. "Ah mean, Ah knew there was some, but until Ah took over fer Papa, Ah had no idea jes' how much'a this bullshit there was t' deal with." She shakes her head. "If mah family wasn't countin' on me..." She trails off, filing several papers.

"Applejack..." I stamp two forms and add them to a stack. "You don't have to do it all alone. You know that, right?"

Applejack smiles. "Yeah, Ah know." She stands up, stretches, and walks over to the opposite wall, where a framed photo of her family hangs. She and Big Mac are much younger; Apple Bloom is a toddler, and their mother and father are young, healthy, and vibrant. She runs a hand lovingly over the photo. "Ah know Big Mac an' Granny'll be here. Ah know even though Apple Bloom wants t' leave th' farm an' make her way out in th' city, if th' family needs her she'll always be there." She sighs. "An' Ah know Ah need t' find a good man, start mah own family t' carry on th' farm." She laughs. "An' git Big Mac t' do th' same. He's too shy t' find himself a good wife. Ah gotta fix 'im up."

"I doubt that'll be too hard." I examine two forms, trying to figure out which one goes on which stack. "I think he kinda likes Rarity. Lord knows he can't take his eyes off her butt whenever she walks past."

Applejack snickers. "Okay, that ain't happenin'. Rarity's easy on th' eyes an' all, an' she's a good friend, but Ah don't really see her as a farmer's wife."

I frown thoughtfully. "You're right, neither do I."

Applejack's hand lingers on the old photo, and she sighs. "Ah sure do miss Papa," she says. "Mama too." She shakes her head. "Ah remember all th' good times we use'ta have. All the trouble me an' Big Mac use'ta get inta." She chuckles, then sits back down. "Th' ol' farm sure don't feel th' same no more."

"Applejack..."

She shakes her head. "Ah'm jes' bein' all wistful-like," she says. "Ah know things change. Ah know...Ah know Ah gotta be strong, like Papa wanted. An' Ah will." She opens a desk drawer and pulls out a glass bottle that's half-full of whiskey. She then pulls out two very small shot glasses, unstoppers the bottle, and fills two of them halfway. "This is pretty strong stuff," she says. "Papa made it himself." She chuckles. "Granny Smith was pissed when she found out he'd been usin' her jam-makin' stuff t' make whiskey." She hands me one of the glasses. I accept it, taking a dubious sniff. It's potent...

"To Papa," she says. "An' to Sweet Apple Acres." She slams her shot back, then slaps the glass on the desk with a loud bang. I shake my head and bolt back the whiskey. It's incredibly strong...

Applejack sweeps the whiskey and the glasses back into the desk. "Ah gotta be strong," she repeats. "Ah gotta keep this family together, keep this farm runnin'." She sighs. "Ah know Ah ain't gotta do it all by my lonesome, though. Ah got Big Mac, Ah got Granny, Ah got Apple Bloom..." She looks over at me. "Ah got mah friends. Y'all done so much for me...Ah'm mighty grateful fer it all."

She straightens some things on the desk. As she rearranges some papers, the pencil can tips over. A small plastic packet of apple seeds falls out of the overturned can and lands on the floor. She picks it up and studies it fondly. "Ah'll be damned," she says. "He did keep 'em."

"Apple seeds?"

"These're th' last seeds from th' last apples that dead ol' tree ever dropped," Applejack says. She turns the packet over in her hand. "Papa thought about plantin' 'em, but decided t' keep 'em as a memento." She chuckles. "He said they was a reminder that a lone tree don't make an orchard, an' a family don't grow if you don't sow your seed." She shakes her head and snorts. "Papa always was full'a all these crazy ol' country sayins. It's funny cuz he weren't brung up country. He met Mama in Fillydelphia." She sighs fondly, then holds the seed packet out to me. "Ah think Ah want you t' have this, seein' as you done been mighty helpful t' me an' Apple Bloom. Jes' havin' you listen when Ah been down, an' you bein' there th' day Papa died...it's meant a lot to me."

"Applejack, I couldn't—"

"Take 'em," she says. "Keep 'em. Let 'em be a reminder that you an' Twilight an' Pinkie need t' have y'all a big ol' family. An' don't pretend you ain't gonna get 'em both in a family way, Ah know whut Ah see." She grins.

I grimace. "Pinkie pregnant. That's a scary thought." I shake my head and pocket the seeds.

Applejack laughs. "Yep, Ah reckon it is." She shakes her head and looks down at herself, brow furrowed. "Don't reckon Ah can see mahself in a family way jes' yet, but..." She looks up at the old photo again and smiles. "Someday Ah will. When th' time's right. A family don't grow with jes' one tree all by her lonesome. An' that's whut Ah really gotta do t' carry on. It ain't jes' about me runnin' this ol' farm keepin' it in th' black. It's about carryin' on, makin' more little Apples."

---

"Well, enough jawin'," Applejack says, cracking her knuckles and popping her back with a grunt. "We gotta finish gittin' this mess sorted out."

It takes most of the day, but we finally manage to file all the paperwork that needs filing and shred all the paperwork that needs shredding. By the time we're done, it's almost time for supper.

Evening

After dinner, I take Twilight aside. "How are things with you and your brother?" I ask.

Twilight shuffles her feet. "We...hashed things out," she says. "I'm not really ready to completely forgive him for what happened, but..." She grimaces. "He's my brother. I can't stay mad at him forever, even if he did do the worst possible thing he could have done." She looks at me. "How about you? Did you have a nice time with Applejack? Any epiphanies that may or may not have an impact on the other stuff we all have to deal with?"

I shrug. "We'll know soon enough."

"Did you, umm..." Twilight ducks her head.

"Have sex with Applejack? No. I told you she's not my type."

"Just asking!" Twilight says defensively, holding up her hands.

"We did taxes. Literally."

"Okay, okay." Twilight yawns. "We've got a lot of packing to do tomorrow, and a big party to set up for. We should get to sleep now."

"Good idea." We settle in for the night. As I drift off, I wonder if we'll have a battle in the Velvet Room tomorrow...