The Letter
“Apple Bloom, Ah need ya tah set the table while Ah check on supper.”
“Okay, Applejack,” said the little filly. She busied herself with getting the plates and glasses and silverware out of the cupboards.
Applejack turned to the oven and opened the door only to be greeted with a blast of hot air. Pausing only to let the heat dissipate, she pulled the rack out and looked at four potatoes, their crisp skins ripped open to reveal the fluffy, crumbly goodness inside. Carefully removing the baking sheet they were on, she set it onto a cooling rack next to the open window. She then turned her attention to the stew. Removing the lid flooded the room with a wonderful aroma of carrots, onions, tomatoes, corn and barely. Satisfied, Applejack turned down the stove to a low simmer.
“That smells good,” noted Apple Bloom, as she placed napkins at every seat.
“Well, that’s the point, ain’t it?” chuckled Applejack.
“Eeyup,” said Big Mac as he walked through the kitchen door, his timing impeccable.
Turning to her younger sister, she said, “Go tell Granny we’re ready tah eat.”
Apple Bloom scurried out of the kitchen, her ooves pounding on the wooden floor.
Applejack looked over to her brother, who was taking his place at the table. “Sell a lot at the market?”
“Eeyup.”
“Afternoon deliveries go alright?”
“Eeyup.”
“Sugar Belle headin’ back to her village?”
“Eeyup.”
Everything as it should be, Applejack nodded in satisfaction.
Apple Bloom came into the kitchen, taking a seat next to her big brother. A moment later, Granny Smith slowly ambled in and sat down at the head of the table. Applejack ladled soup into everypony’s bowl and laid a steaming potato onto each plate. Finally, she sat down across from Apple Bloom. Granny Smith had been gazing around, even as her grandchildren began to eat.
Applejack paused. “Somethin’ a matter Granny?”
The family matriarch sighed, “Ah thought Grand Pear was joinin’ us this evenin’.”
Shaking her head, Applejack said, “He couldn’t. Great Aunt Joséphine took a fall, so he went back tah Vanhoover tah take care of her.”
“Joséphine’s hurt?”
Now Applejack sighed, “Yeah, broke her leg. He said he’ll probably be gone most of summer.”
“That’s too bad,” lamented Granny Smith.
Apple Bloom pouted, “Ah ’ad so many plans fer spendin’ time with him when school lets out.”
Turning to her younger sister, Applejack tried to cheer her up. “But, he did say he wanted us all tah come to the annual Pear family reunion at the end of summer.”
“Really?” asked Apple Bloom and Granny Smith.
“Yeah.”
“He did?” confirmed Granny Smith.
“Yeah?” repeated Applejack, raising an eyebrow.
Granny Smith rose from her seat.
“You alright Granny?” asked Applejack. Even Big Mac and Apple Bloom were taking note of this uncharacteristic behavior.
“Ah’m gonna go lie down fer a while. Just set mah bowl off tah the side, will ya? Ah’ll eat it later.”
The three Apple siblings shared concerned looks amongst themselves.
The next morning Big Mac found himself behind the stove making breakfast. Though he may not be as good of a cook as his sister or grandmare, that didn’t mean he shouldn’t do his part around the house. Besides, improving his cooking skills could only impress his marefriend more.
“We ’avin’ pancakes this mornin’, Big Mac?” asked Applejack as she walked into the room.
Flicking the frying pan, a pancake flipped in the air and landed golden-brown side up. “Eeyup.”
Apple Bloom came into the kitchen. “Mornin’ everypony.”
“Mornin’,” said Big Mac as he kept his focus on the stove.
“Mornin’, Apple Bloom,” replied Applejack. “Git a good night’s sleep?”
“Sure did,” she said as she took her place at the table next to Applejack.
Granny Smith slowly entered the kitchen and made her way directly to the coffee pot.
“Mornin’, Granny,” greeted Applejack.
“Mornin’,” she replied, her voice weaker than the day before.
Applejack tried again, “Sleep well?”
Granny took a long sip of her coffee. “Nnope.” She topped off her mug and made her way over to her chair.
Big Mac came over to the table and loaded everypony’s plate down with pancakes, hash browns, scrambled eggs and hay sausage.
“My, that looks mighty tasty,” noted Applejack.
Sitting down, he said, “Eeyup.”
Before diving in, she reminded Big Mac, “Yer plowin’ the south field today.”
“Eeyup.”
“I’m gonna fix the fence before – ”
“No.”
The three Apple siblings were startled, both by the speaker and the pronouncement. It took Applejack a moment to recover from her shock. “No?”
“You ain’t doin’ chores t’day. None of y’all are.” Granny Smith swept her gaze across her three grandchildren.
“Granny – ”
“You three are goin’ tah the bank,” declared the matriarch with a stern glare that let it be known there was no room for argument.
“The bank?” Applejack clarified.
“Yer getting’ into the safety deposit box.”
Tilting her head in confusion, she asked, “Fer what?”
Granny Smith’s face became dark, “You’ll know it when yah see it.”
Applejack glanced at Big Mac and Apple Bloom, both of whom returned bewildered expressions.
An hour later, the three siblings made their way through town. Saturday mornings in Ponyville weren’t particularly busy. As many of the townsfolk preferred to sleep in, most businesses had yet to open. A few ponies were about, with some heading to a favorite restaurant for breakfast or just out enjoying the beautiful spring morning. Still, the siblings managed to offer greetings to most of those they encountered.
Turning onto Stirrup Street, they spotted the local branch of the Royal Bank of Equestria. In a town full of timber-framed buildings with thatched roofs, the stout building stood out like a lone pine in an apple orchard. Its thick walls of cut granite exuded permanence and strength, while the coat of arms adorning the portico signified authority and commanded respect. Ponies could be sure that their bits and valuables were secure in the fortress-like building.
Applejack led the others up the stairs. She pushed on the front door and nearly ran face first into it when it didn’t budge. Confused, she tipped her hat and rubbed her brow. An annoyed-looking bank clerk tapped on the window and he motioned off to the side. Applejack looked over and read that the bank opened at 10 AM. Glancing to the town clock, she saw it was 9:59:30 and rolled her eyes. Of all the places in town to open exactly on time, it of course was the bank. Thus the Apples waited patiently by the door. Finally, the bell tolled the top of the hour and the bank pony turned the lock with a heavy thunk. The three entered the lobby and Applejack led them to a teller’s window.
“Good mornin’ Drop Box,” she greeted.
Gazing at the three ponies before her, she responded, “Good Morning Miss Applejack, Mister Macintosh, and Miss Bloom. How may I help you three Apples this morning?”
“We’re here to git into our safety deposit box.”
Puzzled, she asked, “And Granny Smith isn’t with you?”
“No.” Applejack tilted her head. “Is that a problem?”
“No, no. It’s just that Granny Smith is the only one who ever accesses your family’s box. I hope she is feeling well.”
“Yeah, Granny’s doin’ alright. But she said we need tah git somethin’ from the box.”
Coming around from behind the teller’s window, Drop Box said, “Of course, right this way.” She led the three siblings past a heavily-reinforced iron door into a small room. Lining each wall of the narrow aisle were row-upon-row of small doors each inscribed with a unique number and sporting two locks. However, with four ponies, the small room quickly became cramped.
Gazing over her ledger, Drop Box remarked, “Ah yes, Number Five, one of our oldest.” She inserted a small key into a lock on the designated door. Turning to Applejack, she promted, “Key please.”
Applejack removed her Stetson and reached into it, producing a similar key. The teller opened the door and pulled forth a long metal box. The four ponies slowly maneuvered their way out of the small room and back into the lobby.
Drop Box motioned to another room. “We have a room where customers can have some privacy when accessing their box. You may come and get me whenever you are done.”
“Thank ya kindly.” Applejack turned and led her two siblings into the room, with Big Mac closing the door behind them. She placed the long metal box on the table, and for a moment the three simply stared at it.
Apple Bloom said in awe, “Ah’ve never seen what’s in our safe deposit box.”
Applejack said, “Ah have – once. How ’bout you Big Mac?”
“Eeyup. Just once.”
“Well, don’t keep us waitin’,” said Apple Bloom, poking her snout towards the box.
Applejack opened the lid to reveal the contents. She chuckled a little as she pulled out several sealed bags.
“What are those?” asked a curious Apple Bloom.
“Well, some places have what they call a ‘seed vault’ in case somethin’ bad happens. This here is our version. We’ve got seeds for all the types of apple trees on Sweet Apple Acres. This bag has red delicious. And here’s golden delicious... and macintosh... and braeburn... and granny smith... and finally the cider apples.” She looked into the box and pulled forth one last bag. “Cain’t ferget the zap apples neither.” She smiled as Apple Bloom examined the small marked bags. “If’n the worst happens, whether it a forest fire or blight or infestation, we’ve got what we need tah start over. ’Course, it’ll take a few years, but Sweet Apple Acres will survive.” Returning to the box, she remarked, “What do we ’ave here?” Applejack reached in and pulled forth an envelope. “Oh, here’s our birth certificates. My Mac, y’all were one big foal.”
“Eeyup.”
“Mama must’a had a C-section with you. And here’s yours Apple Bloom.”
The filly was too busy looking at the other one. “Ah, Applejack, you’re sooooo cute.”
Applejack blushed and quickly stuffed all the paperwork back into the envelope. Next she pulled out a small book. Flipping through the pages, she noted, “Oh, family recipes. An’ zap apple jam instructions.” She set it off to the side and pulled out a small box. Opening it, they found family photos, which they spent some time going through.
Putting all the photos away, Applejack said, “I cain’t imagine that’s what Granny sent us here for.” She reached in and pulled out another envelope. “What do we have here?” Opening it, she observed, “This here’s important. It’s the deed to Sweet Apple Acres.” She passed it to the other two so they could see for themselves. “Well, that should be it.” She reached deep into the box one last time and was surprised to feel something. She pulled forth an envelope. It was yellowed from age but still firmly sealed. Applejack turned it over only to drop it, stumbling back before falling hard onto her haunches.
“Applejack, what is it?” asked Apple Bloom.
Big Mac retrieved the envelope and looked at it, his eyes going wide and his good-natured demeanor suddenly taking on a solemn tone.
“What is it?” pressed Apple Bloom.
Big Mac looked over at Applejack. “Ah imagine this is what Granny Smith wanted us to see.” His sister, still sitting on the floor from shock, dumbly nodded. Turning back to Apple Bloom, he said, “It’s a letter from our parents.”
“Our parents?” The reverence could be her in her voice.
“Eeyup.” He showed her the front, which read “To Our Dear Children” in Pear Butter’s mouth-writing.
Apple Bloom began bouncing up and down. “Let’s read it! Let’s read it!”
Applejack shakily rose from the floor and Big Mac passed over the envelope. She took it in her hooves and turned it over. The seal had must have been placed by her mother years before. With a heavy sigh, she slowly tore open the envelope and retrieved several sheets of paper which she began reading out loud:
To Our Dear Children,
If you are reading this, then something terrible has happened to both of us. We trust Granny Smith is raising you three as we would have wanted. MacIntosh, we know that you will grow up into a big strong stallion like your father. Applejack, we know that you will grow up to be a beautiful mare like your mother. We know both of you are looking after your little sister. And Apple Bloom, our dear foal, though you may not remember us, know that both of us loved you very much....
Applejack paused to wipe her eyes, and though he tried to hide it, Big Mac was certainly tearing up as well.
There are things you should know. We wish we could be there to tell you these things, but fate has taken us away from you. It is our heavy burden to bear, and we had Granny Smith swear not to tell you. She was to have you read our letter when you were ready....
Applejack glanced over to Big Mac. Though she didn’t say it, it was obvious she didn’t like where this was going. “Keep reading, keep reading!” prodded Apple Bloom. Turning back to the letter, she continued to read:
You three have been raised as Apples. Your father’s family is caring, loyal and loving. You could not have asked for a better family. Your mother was not originally an Apple. Though you’ve heard her called Buttercup, her real name was Pear Butter. The Pears lived next to Sweet Apple Acres and the two families had a long running feud. All Pears hated all Apples and all Apples hated all Pears. Except your mother and father. From the time we were foals we were different. As we grew older, we grew closer. We began courting in secret. When we decided to wed, your grandfather Grand Pear tried to stop us. When we went ahead anyways, he disowned your mother and moved the rest of the family away to Vanhoover. We haven’t spoken to your grandfather since....
Applejack noticed the writing had become a bit rougher, and there were a few stains as if tears had fallen on the letter. She continued:
Granny Smith took in your mother as if she were her own daughter. The three of us lived very happily for a time. Then we were blessed with our first foal, our little MacIntosh....
“Aww,” cooed Apple Bloom as Big Mac blushed.
A few years later we were blessed with our first filly, our darling Applejack....
Now it was Applejack’s turn to blush.
And a few years later, we were blessed yet again....
The door creaked open and Bright Mac cautiously poked his head into the room. Pear Butter lay propped up on a hospital bed, her saffron-colored mane a mess and her coat drenched in sweat. Looking up, she weakly said, “Come in.”
Bright Mac trotted over to his wife and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “You’re so beautiful Buttercup.”
She simply smiled up at him for a moment before her gaze drifted back down. Each foreleg held a wrapped bundle. Yellow snouts could be seen as tufts of red mane protruded from the blankets.
“Twins,” he said excitedly. “And here you thought you were carrying a foal bigger than MacIntosh.”
“You can understand why I was not looking forward to going into labor,” she half-heartedly laughed.
He examined the two peaceful foals. “Ah still cain’t believe we have twins.”
“Yes,” she said longingly.
His gaze turned back to his wife. “What’s a matter, darling?”
She looked up to him with sad, tired eyes. “How are we going to make this work?”
He removed his hat and scratched his head for a moment. “Well, MacIntosh and Applejack are gettin’ older. They’ll nearly be able to look after themselves. And Granny Smith will be able to help us with the twins.”
Pear Butter shook her head. “That’s not what I meant.” She sighed, “It’s been difficult enough with a family of five. Our budget was going to be stretched to the limit with six. Now,” she looked back down to the two sleeping foals in her legs, “we have twins.”
He slid a foreleg around her neck and brought her head to his chest in a hug. He nuzzled her as he stroked her mane. “We’ll make it work,” he reassured her.
She shook her head, “No. I handle the finances, and there’s just no way.”
He let go so that he could look at her. “Hun?”
“I – ” Her voiced faltered and tears welled in her eyes.
“What are you sayin’?”
“I think we should give one up,” she whispered.
“No.” He shook his head. “No. No. We cain’t do that. Think of the family.”
“I am,” she insisted. “It hurts so much to think about – ”
“Then don’t.”
“Raising twins to be hungry all the time isn’t an option. Not to mention our other foals. I – I think this is our only choice.”
A heavy tense silence hung over the room. Pear Butter stole glances at her husband as he stood there trying to make sense of what she had said. Finally, he thought out loud, “Maybe one of the Apples could take care of her, least until we’d be able to raise her proper.” He rubbed his chin, “Goldie Delicious may be able to take her in, though Ah’m sure she’d get lost with all the cats. We could ask Sweet Orange in Manehattan.”
Pear Butter didn’t respond.
“Did you have somepony in mind?”
She nodded her head without looking up.
“Who?”
With a heavy sigh, she looked him directly in the eyes. “Pear Jam.”
Bright Mac recoiled at her words. “Your sister!”
“Mmm-hmm. She and her husband.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “You cain’t be serious.”
“I am,” she said sadly.
“She lives in Vanhoover with Grand Pear. You know how he feels ’bout us. There’s no way he’d let an Apple into his family.”
“Pear Jam isn’t like our father. She still writes to me.”
“She moved with him to Vanhoover,” he pointed out.
“With the rest of the family,” she countered.
“What makes you think she’d raise our foal?”
“She and her husband have been wanting to have a foal for a while. A few weeks ago I received a letter from her. They had gone to a doctor and – ” tears welled in her eyes “– she is unable to conceive a foal. They were devestated by the news. She said that they had looked into adopting, but wait times are long. It could be two or three years before they get a foal of their own to raise.”
“Ah still don’t see how this could work.”
“Grand Pear would never have to know. As far as he’s concerned, Pear Jam adopted the foal through the social services.”
Bright Mac remained silent for a while with a frown on his face.
Pear Butter pressed, “Mac?”
Finally he said, “Ah – Ah still don’t like this.”
“We could meet with my sister and her husband. Get to know them. If you’re still worried, we could back out.”
“You’re sure ’bout this?”
She nodded. “We’d be letting a loving couple raise our foal.” She looked down at the bundles and held them tighter.
Rubbing the back of his neck, he said, “Guess there’s no harm in meetin’ with ’em.” He turned his gaze back to the twin foals soundly sleeping in Pear Butter’s legs.
...After meeting with Pear Jam and her husband, we decided to let them adopt her. They were overjoyed to have a foal of their own and have been raising her in Vanhoover. We wanted to wait until you’d be old enough to understand. Giving her up was the hardest thing we’ve ever had to do, but we knew that our foal would be in good hooves with a loving family. We had hoped that our love would bring the Apples and the Pears together. Perhaps Apple Bloom and her sister can be the bridge to bring peace to the two families.
Your loving mother and father,
Buttercup and Bright Mac
A heavy silence hung in the room. Applejack looked over at Big Mac, who remained as stoic as ever. They both turned to Apple Bloom who stood there wide-eyed and speechless. “Sugarcube?” began Applejack.
Almost a whisper, Apple Bloom said, “I have a twin sister.” Looking up at her older siblings she said, “I have a twin sister.” Suddenly she began bouncing in place. “I have a twin sister! I have a twin sister!”
The Apple siblings walked along the old country lane towards Sweet Apple Acres. Well, two of them walked, the youngest skipped about. “I have a twin sister! I have a twin sister! What do you think her name is? Ooh, could it be Pear Bloom? Wouldn’t that be somethin’? Ah wonder if she has her cutie mark yet? You think it’s like mine? Maybe she’d like to be a Cutie Mark Crusader?”
When her sister paused to take a breath, Applejack said, “Ya know sugarcube, Ah was thinkin’. Perhaps we could have her come down from Vanhoover fer a visit once school’s done fer the summer.”
Apple Bloom stopped at her sister’s words. Then she began bouncing around her siblings in her best imitation of Twilight. “Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!”
Applejack sighed, “It’s goin’ to be a long two weeks ’fore school lets out.”
Big Mac nodded. “Eeyup.”
“Yes! Yes! Yes!...” continued Apple Bloom.
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Well, that's a whole new kettle of fish...
11907363
Check back in June for the sequel!
Amazing work.
11907421
Thanks!
We just got a letter,
We just got a letter,
We just got a letter,
I wonder who it's from
Apple Bloom is one happy bundle of apples!
11907469
In the next story:
Not quite what I was expecting. Maybe one of the genres should be changed from mystery to thriller? I really enjoyed the story regardless.
11907519
Thanks for the feedback. I'll have to take a look and see if Thriller is an option.
SEQUEL IMMEDIATELY
11907693
I have some very special reasons for releasing on June 9th. Besides, it's just a few weeks away.
11907847
THANK YOU
I can see where Buttercup (Pear Butter) was coming from. If they’re struggling to feed five mouths, then seven would be quite the dealbreaker. I’m glad that the parents thought to write a letter explaining the situation. Rather than leaving it to Granny Smith to explain—eventually. She was encroaching middle age (or so it seems) when the two just got married. I’m looking forward to the sequel.
—Cragadilian.