Clean Slate

By Alaborn

Standard disclaimer: This is a not for profit fan work. My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic is copyright Hasbro, Inc. I make no claim to any copyrighted material mentioned herein.

Chapter 13: Holidays

December saw decorations grow omnipresent across Ponyville. Barnyard Bargains looked busier and busier. But for me, the holidays didn’t hit home until Applejack spoke to me, away from everypony else.

“Do you know when your seasonal work will be over?” she asked.

“I haven’t talked to the manager specifically, but I understand nopony will stay on after the first Sunday in the new year,” I replied.

“Well, you’ll want to make your end date no later than December 29,” Applejack said. She was trying to conceal a smile.

I don’t know what she was planning, but I was looking forward to it. I was curious, but it’s only fair that I was left guessing. I still hadn’t told her about my planned gift for Apple Bloom.

Ever since I started working at Barnyard Bargains, the days had been passing in a blur. School continued as normal, but with the knowledge we’d have end of semester exams just before the break for Hearth’s Warming. At home, myriad preparations for the winter met the need for long-delayed maintenance projects. And after every work shift, I felt worn out.

On the first weekend in December, where home, school, and work demands finally allowed me a day off, I was roped into another crusade idea. As I rode in the wagon with Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle, I realized it had been weeks since we last got together.

“Do you really think we could be Cutie Mark Crusader candy cane makers?” I asked as we arrived at the door of a small shop.

“We had bad experiences with the taffy machine, but making candy canes should be safer,” Sweetie Belle observed.

“Besides, even if we don’t get cutie marks, we’ll still get candy!” Scootaloo said enthusiastically.

I couldn’t argue with that.

Apple Bloom knocked, and the door was soon opened by one of the fillies in my class. “Hi, Apple Bloom! I’m so glad you could come today!” The poofy red mane and thick glasses were distinctive, but as soon as she spoke, with her lisp rendering “so” into “tho”, I remembered this filly was Twist.

“Yeah, let’s get to the candy!” Sweetie Belle said enthusiastically.

“Follow me to the kitchen,” Twist said.

We stood in Twist’s kitchen. It wasn’t as large as the one in Sugarcube Corner, but it was larger than the one at home. A central island was covered with four slick-looking... place mats, I’ll call them, for lack of a better term. There were dozens of small bottles of all colors at the center of the island, and of course large bags of sugar on the counter.

“Now before we touch anything in the kitchen, we need to talk safety,” Twist lectured. Scootaloo groaned. “I’m super serious. We’re going to be cooking sugar to above 300 degrees, and that’s hot enough to burn your hooves. And if you get it in your coat, it will remove the hair and burn the skin underneath.” I winced, and looked at my friends. We all looked a little uncomfortable upon hearing that warning.

“Before you touch the hot sugar, make sure you’re wearing these,” Twist said, motioning to the counter. She had these little hoof coverings there, made of the same slick material. “It’s a magical fabric that will protect you from the heat, and also, the sugar doesn’t stick to it!”

“Is the same material used for these mats?” I asked.

“Uh-huh,” Twist said, nodding. “Now, let’s get started! First, we need five cups of sugar.”

There were lots of measuring cups, so we all got to work. Twist monitored us.

“No, it has to be exactly five cups!” she warned, stopping Scootaloo from adding a sloppy cup to the pot on the stove. “This isn’t like baking, where you’d just get a less sweet cake. The measurements have to be perfect!”

After collecting the sugar, Twist placed water, one cup plus two tablespoons, in a separate bowl. Twist then opened a bottle and measured out three tablespoons of liquid into the bowl.

Apple Bloom wrinkled her nose. “Vinegar? I’ve had enough of that for the year.”

“Isn’t that going to make the candy sour?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“The vinegar provides the acid needed for making the sugar candy. You won’t taste it,” Twist replied.

I don’t think anypony was convinced, but it makes sense to trust the pony with the special talent of making sugar candy. She added the vinegar to the pot, placed a thermometer in it, and turned on the stove.

“Now what?” Scootaloo asked.

“We wait,” Twist said. “The sugar has to get to 320 degrees. If you see any sugar crystals on the side of the pan, dip this brush in water and brush the side of the pan.” In response to our flat expressions, Twist pointed to the center of the island. “While we wait, why don’t you check out the colors and flavors?”

“Oil of peppermint? I didn’t know there was peppermint oil!” Sweetie Belle said.

“I like this cinnamon,” Scootaloo said.

“Pineapple extract? What kind of apple is a pineapple?” Apple Bloom wondered.

“That’s a different fruit,” I said. “It’s, ah....” I remembered the taste of pineapple. The thought of pineapple made my mouth water. But I realized I had no way of describing what it tasted like. “It’s nothing like an apple,” I said.

“Oh,” Apple Bloom replied, disappointed.

Twist watched us as we monitored the pot. Her directions were clear, and we soon had a molten glob of sugar.

“I’ll demonstrate mixing the candy,” Twist said. She poured some of the sugar mixture onto one of the mats, and placed the pot with the remaining sugar in the oven, to keep it warm. Donning the hoof protectors, she assessed the liquid candy.

“Pour just a little of whichever coloring and flavoring you want, and then stir with those wooden sticks. I’m going to make my famous candy canes!” Twist started by measuring a small amount of the peppermint oil, and added it to the mixture before stirring. Once satisfied, she used a large knife to divide the mixture in two, and then added red food coloring to one, stirring until the color was distributed.

“Once the mixture cools a little, it becomes pliable. Now watch this!” Twist started with the white candy, using the edge of the mat to roll the candy into a thin cylinder. She did the same with the red candy, placing the resulting candy next to its white counterpart.

“And now, a twist!” Holding one end of the candy, she twisted, forming a tight braid of red and white. After a brief rolling, she had a familiar-looking striped candy. Finally, she cut the candy into eight pieces, and used a wooden dowel to shape one end, creating candy canes resembling the ones on her flank.

“Is that the recipe that got you your cutie mark?” I asked.

“Uh huh!” she replied cheerily. “Now, why don’t you give it a try?” Twist replaced the used mat, and carefully poured the remaining sugar mixture onto the four mats.

I decided to try making pineapple candy, adding a similar amount of that extract to my candy, followed by the yellow food coloring. I used a little too much, getting a darker yellow than I had envisioned.

“What shape of candy do you want to make?” Twist asked me.

“Ummm....” I hesitated. I hadn’t thought about that, so I just said “Normal shape. You know, little discs?”

“Okay, then what you’ll want to do is roll your candy into a thicker cylinder, then cut lozenges. If you want to round the edges, just press down gently with the frog of your hoof, then flip and repeat.” Twist then went to help one of my friends.

“Isn’t that a bit ambitious?” Twist asked Scootaloo. I glanced up, seeing the pegasus had divided her candy into six sections, and had all the bottles of food coloring next to her. Noticing my candy had reached the consistency where Twist had started shaping it, I turned to complete my work.

Sticking to a candy with one color and one flavor meant my candy should be hard to mess up. I started rolling it out. Even through the mat and the hoof coverings, I felt the heat of the candy, so I was glad for the protection. Soon I had a thick sugary log, which I cut into lozenges. Then, following Twist’s instructions, I pressed down on each one. The sensation reminded me of stepping on a large pebble.

Once I finished creating my candy, I left the twenty or so disks to cool. Apple Bloom had created green stick candy with spearmint oil. Sweetie Belle’s candy canes looked a little misshapen. And Scootaloo, apparently, had tried to make rainbow-colored candy. It didn’t look very good.

Twist gave a final inspection to our work. “Now, the candy needs to cool. So let’s play some games!”

We followed Twist into her living room. She searched a closet, muttering something about finding a game that’s good for five ponies. Finally, she took a bag to the dining room table, spilling a bunch of coins onto it. The coins featured a blank, flat side, and a rounded one with pictures of historically important ponies.

“This one’s simple. Each of the coins has one blank side and one side with a picture. You’re trying to get all the coins with one of the pictures. So what you do is trade coins with somepony else. Just say one, two, or three, and trade that same number of coins, all with the same picture. Smack the table when you’re done. But you don’t want to get caught with the Discord or Nightmare Moon coin! Oh, and those coins are wild, so they can be combined with any trade.”

We worked to turn all the coins over, the pictures concealed. I noticed that by pressing one edge of the coin, the coin pivoted, making it easy to see what the picture was.

The coins were shuffled and dealt. I already had three Clover the Clevers, so I thought I’d try for that set.

“Begin!” Twist called.

The table devolved into a cacophony of ones, twos and threes. My hooves slid coins across the table continuously. A very short time later, I slammed my hoof on the table. “I won!” I yelled. The others were disappointed as I turned over my eight Clovers.

We played four more games, and I won two of those. Winning was definitely the best, but sticking Apple Bloom with the Nightmare Moon coin three times in a row was also fun.

“Now, the candy should be cool,” Twist mentioned.

Oh, yeah. I was having so much fun that I forgot why we were here in the first place!

Twist bid us farewell, sending us home with bags of candy. Of course, we couldn’t separate before trading candy. We each got one of Apple Bloom’s spearmint sticks, one of Sweetie Belle’s candy canes, and two pieces from me and Scootaloo, keeping the bulk of the candy we each had made.

Sweetie Belle assessed the mess that was Scootaloo’s candy. “This looks like an explosion in a stained glass workshop!”

“Okay, so I didn’t get the cool rainbow effect. But I’m sure it tastes good,” she retorted.

We all tried one piece. It was cinnamon. Very cinnamon. The candy almost felt like it was burning my tongue. I liked the intense flavor, but decided eating more than one piece would probably be a mistake. Judging by the expressions of my friends, they agreed with me. Scootaloo was unfazed, though, happily eating a second piece.

“I’m just glad to get some candy,” Sweetie Belle said. She tucked her bag under her mane.

“Why are you hiding your candy?” I asked.

“Mom doesn’t like me eating too much candy. Rarity says the same thing, though I see her sneaking those little wrapped candies from Bon Bon’s all the time!” Sweetie Belle explained.

“Can’t be helped,” Apple Bloom said. “Applejack doesn’t watch what we eat, because she knows we’ll work it off on the farm!”

Some, more than others.

Later in the month, I found Apple Bloom in the barn. She had a number of woodworking tools scattered on the workbench, and appeared to be assembling some sort of small chest.

“What are you working on?” I asked.

“It’s a gift for Sweetie Belle. How does it look?”

I examined the chest. The worksponyship was quite good, as good as the furniture in the farmhouse. “I like it,” I said.

“And check this out!” Apple Bloom pressed her hoof along the back corner of the chest. I saw the bottom of the chest’s interior pop up. I did not notice that false bottom!

“And now Sweetie Belle can hide her diary,” Apple Bloom said.

“That’s a problem for her?” I asked.

“I’m not sure,” Apple Bloom answered. “She’s suspicious of her mother, but maybe she’s overreacting. I don’t know. Still, I thought that would be good project to make, to test my skills.”

“It looks like a great gift,” I said, then paused. “Speaking of gifts, I really don’t know what to get for Applejack or Big McIntosh or Granny Smith.”

“It doesn’t have to be much,” Apple Bloom replied. “It can be something you made.”

“I’m not skilled at making anything like you are,” I said. “I’ve saved some money from my job. If I wanted to buy a gift, what would be good?”

Apple Bloom thought for a moment. “You know, we’re not very good about replacing old things. Like that old broom in our closet. The new broom is so much better, but it took us a long time to buy it. Try looking around the farm, and see if you get any ideas.”

I smiled. “Thanks for your help, Apple Bloom.”

There is just something special about the holidays. Evergreen boughs, symbolic of the friendship that survived through the worst efforts of the Windigoes. Red and green ribbons, a festive decoration. And, of course, a pile of presents, wrapped, just waiting to be open. I don’t know what holiday traditions I used to observe, but this all felt right.

On Hearth’s Warming Eve, we spent the day indoors, avoiding the fresh blanket of snow on the ground outside. The smell of apple pies baking filled the air. But before we could think about dinner, Applejack escorted Apple Bloom and me into the kitchen.

“There’s one present we always open early,” Applejack said, placing a bag on the counter. It contained spices and orange peel.

I had seen this product on the shelves at Barnyard Bargains. It was a very strong seller over the last week. “Mulling spices,” I said.

“It’s from Aunt and Uncle Orange!” Apple Bloom said excitedly.

“That’s right. It’s a way to bring their side of the family to ours for the holiday. And I want you to make the mulled cider together,” Applejack said.

Apple Bloom was eager to get started. I watched as Applejack departed. There was something about her smirk. Was she planning something?

It turns out making mulled cider wasn’t anything difficult. We filled a large pot on the stove with cider, reserved for the season, and added the mulling spices.

The smell of the spices was familiar. “I wonder if the Oranges are the ponies who make the mulling spices sold at Barnyard Bargains,” I mused.

“Maybe, but this is special,” Apple Bloom said. “The orange peel is hoof-selected from the best oranges from their groves.”

The pot was boiling, and the smell of the mulled cider was beginning to fill the kitchen. “I don’t think I can disagree.”

Soon after the cider was finished, Granny Smith pushed us out of the kitchen. Apparently, putting together the meal for Hearth’s Warming Eve was her job, and nopony had better interrupt her!

I didn’t mind, because that placed me in the living room with the three Apple siblings, enjoying a roaring fire and mugs of mulled cider. Applejack pulled out some family photo albums, introducing me to members of the very large Apple family, each picture spawning a story. Before I knew it, Granny Smith called us in for dinner.

My eyes were drawn to the baked pumpkin at the center of the table. Granny Smith dipped a ladle into the pumpkin, pulling out a delicious-looking stew. Once it was served, I eagerly dived in. The spicy stew of apples, pumpkin, potatoes, and onions was delicious, a flavor profile I had never tasted before. That’s not to mention the fresh bread with sweetened cinnamon butter, the gingerbread cookies, and the apple pie.

After cleaning the kitchen, we gathered around the fire, all five of us together for the first time that day. I eyed the presents, but first, Big McIntosh took a book in hoof, worn but lovingly cared for. With the first words, I recognized the familiar tale of The Dawn of Harmony. I knew the story. Everypony knows the story. I focused on my thoughts.

Attributed to the writer Sweet Clementine. The most well-known example of anapestic tetrameter. Responsible for the popular depiction of many historical figures, particularly Clover the Clever.

Facts. I wanted to remember something more than lessons from a book.

Big McIntosh’s deep voice was surprisingly lyrical. He should speak more often. I tried to feel the words, feel their spirit.

Warmth. Comfort. Love.

Those wonderful feelings. I opened my eyes, not realizing I had closed them. I looked around; it seemed like everypony was feeling the same thing.

I’m sure I felt these feelings before.

I felt a box being pressed into my hooves. It was time to open presents!

My first gift was a very practical one. “Thanks for the new jacket,” I said. It was getting a bit cold to go out without one.

“The one you used to have looked a mite small,” Applejack said.

I watched as she opened the gift I got her, a new pitchfork. “I did need one of these. Thanks, Diamond Tiara.”

Granny Smith had nodded off, but the photo album I had bought her should help her to organize all the loose photos from the last family reunion.

Big McIntosh opened the large box with my gift for him. He pulled out a new yoke. “You didn’t need to go to all that trouble. I was fine with the one I had,” he said.

“Its lightweight but sturdy metal construction will do the same job as your old yoke, but with greater comfort,” I said. I was repeating something I had said to a customer at Barnyard Bargains not more than a week ago. “And this will let Applejack work alongside you.”

Big McIntosh smirked. Applejack frowned. It looks like I was correct when I guessed that she didn’t care for plow work. At the same time, I knew she couldn’t say no if asked, though. I wondered how the spring’s chores might play out.

I made sure my last gift to be opened was the one I got for Apple Bloom. I passed her a simple envelope, and kept a similar envelope in my hooves. She opened it, and was quite surprised at what was inside.

A three month membership at Snowflake’s gymnasium.

I pulled the card out of my envelope and placed it next to hers. “This is the main reason I worked,” I explained. “If I’m going to get stronger, I need to work out at the gym. Apple Bloom, I want you to come and urge me on. And I want you to get so strong that there’s no way Applejack will be able to keep you out of the orchard next year.”

Apple Bloom’s confused expression was replaced by a huge smile, and she jumped up and hugged me. “Thanks, Diamond Tiara! That’s the best gift ever!” Over my shoulder, I caught Applejack nodding and smiling.

“Uh, I hope you like my gift,” Apple Bloom said, passing me a heavy box. I unwrapped it, finding a decorative wooden box. It looked a little like Sweetie Belle’s chest, but smaller and more artistic. I surmised she had crafted it during the many days I was working at Barnyard Bargains.

I opened the box, finding a lining of rich purple velvet. “I made it for your tiara,” Apple Bloom said. “It’s too important to just leave on the top of the dresser.”

I can’t imagine my tiara held any good memories for Apple Bloom, yet she made this anyway. I hugged her again, closing my eyes to conceal the wetness that threatened to spill out. “Thank you,” I whispered.

The excitement of the gift exchange wasn’t enough to forestall the tiredness I felt. I didn’t protest as Applejack urged us to get to bed.

Soon, I was buried under my blankets and quilt. “And the best part is we get more gifts tomorrow!” I whispered to Apple Bloom. We had a special gift exchange tomorrow, just for us Crusaders.

“So what did you get Scootaloo?” she asked. She already knew of my gift for Sweetie Belle, an assortment of candy, because it was concealed in the secret compartment of the chest she had made.

“I found some multicolored wagon wheels at Barnyard Bargains. I thought they’d make the wagon look nice.”

“I bet she’ll like that,” Apple Bloom said.

We briefly considered exchanging gifts in the clubhouse, but opening the door to admit Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle made us agree that the weather outside was not fit for anypony. The other two Crusaders took a seat near the fire and brought out their gifts.

Scootaloo looked embarrassed as she passed me a lumpy wrapped gift, with something soft inside. I opened it to reveal a knitted scarf. Its red and purple pattern looked like it would complement my mane and coat.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Scootaloo’s ma makes those for all her friends,” Apple Bloom explained. Now that she mentioned it, I had seen Apple Bloom wear a very similar scarf.

In turn, Scootaloo thought my wheels were cool, and the gear assembly Apple Bloom gave her caused the two of them to exchange knowing looks. Sweetie Belle’s gift was off theme, a board game.

“Hope I can get some play out of this one before my brothers destroy it,” Scootaloo commented.

Sweetie Belle loved the chest Apple Bloom made for her, and smiled at seeing the sweet treasure I had added to it. She stowed Scootaloo’s gift, a journal, inside.

Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle both gave Apple Bloom tools. I didn’t know what they did, but Apple Bloom replied that they were just what she was looking for.

Finally, I opened Sweetie Belle’s gift for me. From its box, I pulled out a violet mane ribbon.

“Rarity helped me pick out the best color for you,” Sweetie Belle said.

I noticed Apple Bloom smiling at her. I guessed she had suggested that particular gift to Sweetie Belle, all based on a comment I made a while ago.

Applejack trotted into the room, smiling. “And I have a special gift for all of you,” she said, an envelope for each of us in her mouth.

None of us were expecting this gift, and the train ticket inside the envelope was similarly unexpected.

“You’re all coming with me to Manehattan!” Applejack announced. “We’re going to pay a visit to the Oranges, and then we’ll spend four days with the Seeds.”

The others started bouncing up and down. “We get to see Babs again!” Apple Bloom cheered.

“And just think of all the crusading we can do in the big city!” Scootaloo said.

I remembered seeing both of these families in the Apple family photo albums, but I couldn’t remember Babs. Still, the enthusiasm was infectious.

“Now, both of your parents know about this, and I take it from your reaction that they kept it a secret,” Applejack said to Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle, who nodded in reply. I glanced at the departure date on my ticket, December 30. Suddenly, Applejack’s comment to me at the beginning of the month made sense.

Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle gave Applejack a hug as thanks for the gift. “I know you’re excited and all,” Applejack said, “but if I’m going to be taking you away from your families for a week, then you should be spending as much time with them beforehand.”

“Thanks again, Applejack! See ya, Apple Bloom, Diamond Tiara!” Scootaloo said. The two fillies secured their gifts, donned scarves, and headed home.

“Could you help me tie this ribbon?” I asked Apple Bloom.

“Sure. Let’s go upstairs,” she replied.

We stood in front of the mirror above my dresser. I pushed aside the box with my tiara, so that we could see the mirror better. Apple Bloom stood behind me, holding the ribbon above my head.

“I’m sure you know how to tie the ribbon, so the hard part’s going to be deciding what shape to use, and where to put it in your mane,” she explained. She tried several looks before I found one that felt close.

“Can you tie that bow, but a little further back in my mane?” I asked.

Apple Bloom complied, and I judged my look. “I like it,” I said. In the mirror, I saw Apple Bloom standing next to me. The bow I chose looked a lot like hers.

“Now do you want to practice?” Apple Bloom asked.

I nodded, and untied the ribbon. Apple Bloom sat on her bed and read while I worked. Balancing against the dresser, I first tried to find a way to hold the ribbon in my pasterns without letting it slip. Then, I focused on the bow. My first few attempts didn’t produce an even or tight bow.

“Who is Babs Seed?” I asked as I untied the bow.

“She’s my cousin. She’s also looking for her Cutie Mark, and became a Crusader back when she visited Ponyville earlier this year.” Apple Bloom paused “There’s something else you should know.”

I looked back at Apple Bloom and nodded.

“Babs visited not long before you, um, you know. At the time, you convinced her to leave the Crusaders and bully us instead. But none of us knew she was being bullied herself, back home.”

“Does she know about me? About me now?” I asked.

“Sort of. I mentioned you were sharing my room, and that you were in an accident and your pa died. I didn’t mention your memory loss because, you know, I wasn’t expecting to see her so soon.”

“Maybe we could write a letter,” I suggested. “Do you think it would get there in time?”

“Probably.”

I looked at the bow in the mirror. “What do you think?”

Apple Bloom looked up. “Looks pretty good.”

From downstairs, I heard a knock on the door. “Are we expecting somepony?” I asked.

“I don’t think so,” she said.

Curious, we both left the room and headed downstairs. Applejack had answered the door. A bespectacled earth pony filly of our age was just inside, stamping her hooves to dislodge the snow. Her gray coat and two-toned silver mane was not familiar to me.

“Diamond Tiara?” Applejack said. “Silver Spoon is here to see you.”

Author's Notes:

I ponified a couple of real world things here. They should be easy enough to figure out.

For this story, Scootaloo's family is the same as in Scootaloo's Family, though we probably won't visit them.

I don't need to tell you what the next chapter will be about!