>”I’m gonna getcha!”
“Ah!”
>Weaving in and out of the wiry trees, you scream, brushing against the bundles of grapes which hang from the thin branches above you
“You can’t get me!”
>Popping out of the foliage, you make a last ditch effort to sprint towards the porch when you hear his pounding footsteps behind you
>Heart racing, you watch as your safe haven draws closer when suddenly your feet leave the ground
>”I’ve got you now.”
“No-aha! Stop!”
>As your world flips upside down, you feel a spider crawl against your stomach and attack you viciously with its spindly legs
>”Go on, say it.”
“Never!” you belt out, giggling in sheer terror as you swipe at the creature tearing at your skin
>”C’mon now, it’s easy. Say it with me. Un-cle.”
“No!”
>A moment later, your mauling ceases
>Phew, for a second you thought he was gonna-
>Flipping right side up, you feel something wet slam into your stomach
>”Pfffffft!”
“Uncle! Uncle! S-Stop, please!” you screech, futilely trying to shove their head away from you
>Released from their torment, you see the ground slowly getting closer when your head gracefully makes contact
>Lowered to the ground, you prop yourself up on your arms to catch your breath
>”Good to see ol’ Uncle Pseudo still got it.”
>Kneeling in front of you, he grins and wipes a bead of sweat from his brow
>”I ain’t gonna lie, you really gave me a run for my money.”
“I told you I was fast.”
>”You sure are, squirrelly.”
>Leaning forward with a fist, he gently rubs it against your skull before ruffling your hair
>Glancing up towards the burning sun, he sighs, resting his arms against his knee
>”You gettin’ hungry, buddy?”
>Nodding, you feel your stomach tumble and turn, groaning loudly
>”Alright now,” he chuckles, hooking an arm beneath your legs and back
>Rising from the ground, you smile in anticipation
>”Hurgah, hurgah,” he audibly grunts, lifting you off the ground
“I’m not that heavy.”
>”I don’t know, I think I’m gonna,” shooting to the dirt floor, he immediately bounces back up, “drop ya!”
“Again, again!”
>”No can do, buckaroo.”
“Why not?”
>”’Cause we’re already here.”
>Setting you down on the porch, he sighs, stretching and popping his back
>”Lets get on inside, ya hear?”

>Yanking open the screen door, you burst through the doorway and bolt towards the kitchen to see your parents
“Mama,” you squeak, stopping mid-run and walking to her
>”Yes sweetie?”
>Lightly tugging on her skirt, you gaze into her warm, inviting eyes
“Can we have lunch now?”
>Smiling, she cups your cheeks and kisses your forehead
>”Of course. Nito,” she asks, turning towards your dad, “can you and Anon peel the potatoes?”
>”Yes mam,” he responds, resting his newspaper on the table and wrapping an arm around your waist
>Hoisting you from the wooden floor, he follows her to the counter and sets you on top of it
>”Really honey? He’s dirty.”
>”Ain’t nothing a little water and soap can’t fix, darlin’.”
>Kicking your legs, you see your mom puff her cheeks out and cross her arms as she glares at your dad
>Uh oh, mama’s mad...
>”Starry-”
>”Incog,” she growls, maintaining her boiling visage
>”O-kay,” he says without another word, lifting you off the counter and on a nearby stool
>Snagging a sack of potatoes and a peeler, he sets it in front of the both of you
>Placing the peeler in your palm, he grips your hand, placing it on the potato and moving it away from you
>”Always look at what you’re doin’ and keep the peeler away from yer hand.”
>After the entire potato’s peeled, he claps you on the back and hands you another potato
>Focusing on your work, you occasionally sneak a glimpse at your mom chopping some carrots and your dad peeling his potatoes with a knife
“Papa, why are ya peeling towards you?” you question, continuing to peel your share
>”This is what ya do when yer usin’ a knife.”
“Can I try?”
>”When yer older, sure.”
>Pouting, you cross your arms and glare at him, staring daggers straight into his soul when you hear a creaky laugh
>”Oh lord, he really is his mother’s son.”
>Twisting your head, you spot your grandma shuffling into the kitchen
>”Ya coulda said you were fixin’ lunch and I’da help ya.”
>”You really don’t need to, Miss Hope.”
>Flapping a hand towards your mom, she continues her trek
>”Gleaming, ya’ve been in the family fer how many years and yer still makin’ a fuss ‘bout manners? Now scooch and lemme help ya.”
>As time ticks by, the stack of peeled potatoes grows higher, and when your hands begin to cramp, you realize the sack is completely empty
>Jumping off the stool, you follow your dad back to the kitchen table and climb in his lap to read the newspaper with him

>While the intoxicating smell of lunch greets your nose, you notice something as you try and locate the funny pages
>’UPCOMING WINTER PREDICTED ON TIME AND NOT AS HARSH, METEOROLOGISTS SAY’
“Papa, what’s a metreologist?”
>”A metreologist?” he questions, looking down at you with a confused expression
“That,” you reply, pointing to the headline
>”Ah, that says meteorologist.”
“What does a meat-er-ologist do?”
>”They tell us what the weather’s gonna be like.”
“How?”
>Scratching his chin, he hums in curiosity
>”While I ain’t sure, but I think we can find out if we read it.”
>Reading through the article, you say the words you know and pat his hand on the words you don’t
“It’s espected-”
>”Expected.”
”-expected that the comin’ winter is goin’ ta be lighter than the last. No blisserds-
>”Blizzards.”
“-blizzards are expected.”
>”Very good,” he whispers proudly, patting your head
“But how do they know?”
>”I guess you’ll find out when ya go to school this fall. Ya excited?”
“Yeah!”
>”Attaboy.”

>Picking you up and carrying you to the dining room, the scent of lunch draws near
>When all the plates and platters are placed on the table, you listen to the dinner bell chime and wait patiently in your seat
>Soon, all your relatives enter the house and take their respective places as they shovel food on their plates
>After your mom finishes getting you your food, you have your own fill of lunch
>A flurry of conversations and cacophonous laughter erupts, and as soon as it began, it ended with the entire table completely barren
>Satisfied, you rub your tummy when you feel two sets of hands on your shoulders
>”Sweetie, we have to talk.”
>”Yer mother and I have been thinking, and we think that what we’re ‘bout to tell ya is the best fer us all.”
>”Anon, we’re going to be moving to Canterlot.”
“Will Uncle Pseudo come with us?” you ask, turning to her
>”No sweetie,” she coos, frowning as she rubs your back, “but we’ll still see him and everyone else when we visit.”
“B-But how much? And fer how long?” you whimper, tears growing in your eyes
>”Every winter.”
>A river trails down your cheeks as you struggle to breathe, your chest tightening in a vice
>”Shh, it’s okay, sweetie. It’s okay.”
>The sound of her humming drowns out everything around you as you fail to notice being picked up
>Now in the back of the truck, all you can do is cry
>Wailing and weeping until you pass out in her chest, the bumps of the road and her arms cradling you to sleep

=========================================================================

>”Anon,” a light voice sings nearby, “it’s time to wake up, sweetie.”
>Burying your face in your pillow, you moan half-heartedly as something brushes against your arm
>”It’s a shame that you’re asleep,” she announces to no one in particular before whispering into your ear, “because I made crepes, so I guess I’ll have to eat them myself. All of them.”
“Crepes?” you ask, shifting your head towards your beaming mom
>”Oui, so get your clothes on.”
>Pinching a cheek, she plants a kiss on the tip of your nose and gets up from your bed
>As she leaves the room, you immediately jolt into action
>Rolling out from underneath the covers, you unceremoniously undress yourself, catapulting your night clothes around your room
>Down to your skivvies, you snatch your clothes for the day from the dresser and head towards the kitchen as you dress yourself
>Pulling the other sock on, you nearly trip through the kitchen doorway and face plant on the cool, marble tile
>”Your breakfast is on the table, honey.”
>”Thanks, darlin’.”
>Scurrying over to your seat, you sit beside the window and reach for the jam jar
>Smearing a healthy scoop atop your breakfast, you return the jar to the center of the table and roll the flat cakes with your hands
>”Anon Y. Mous!”
>Snapping your head in her direction, you sheepishly drop your food back onto your plate and grab a fork
“I love you, mama,” you shout, shooting her a toothy grin
>”I wonder where you’re learning that from.”
*snort*
>Before you can take your first bite, she turns her attention to your dad, glaring at him with a plate of her own
>”I love ya, darlin’.”
>Sashaying her way over to the two of you, she tilts his chin towards her and pecks him on the lips
>”I love you, too.”
>Beginning your breakfast, you shove forkful after forkful down your craw, ignoring your mom’s look of disappointment
>Sighing, she digs into her own cooking, occasionally taking a sip of some coffee here and there
“Papa,” you ask, swallowing your last mouthful, “can you come with us?”
>Pursing his lips, he reaches out and holds your hand in his
>”Sorry son, but there’s still work that needs done.”
“Still?”
>Without a word, he squeezes your hand with a weary smile
>”Oh shi-oot!” she declares, shock washing over her face, “brush your teeth, sweetie, we don’t wanna be late!”
>Scrambling for the bathroom as your dad laughs in the background, you hastily brush your teeth and rush for the already running truck

>Buckling up, you hold onto anything nearby as the car lurches forward
>”Sorry Anon,” she laments, placing a hand on your chest, “I really shouldn’t have done that.”
“It’s alright, mama.”
>Huffing, she takes back her hand and focuses on the road
>”Aren’t you excited to make new friends?”
“Uh-huh.”
>”I’m sure you’ll learn and have a lot of fun.”
>Comforted by her words, you lean your head against the window and watch as the sun rises from the horizon
>Time seems to crawl on forever when you’re shaken back to reality
>”We’re here, sweetie.”
>Rubbing your eyes, you realize you aren’t in the countryside anymore
>”You have a great day,” she squeaks, pulling you into a hug
“Thanks, mama.”
>Grabbing your bag, you leave the car and walk with the other children towards the front of the school
>”Hello students! Welcome in, come inside!”
>Stepping through the front doors, you follow your past self’s movements and eventually find your way to your homeroom after getting lost twice
>...okay, maybe it was three or four times, but hey!
>”Hi Anon, come on in and take a seat!”
>Entering the room, you freeze in place
>T-That’s a lot of people
>”Go on, don’t be shy,” Ms. Cheer encourages, gently nudging you further inside
>Finding a card with your name on it, you take a seat
>”Howdy!”

>Twisting yourself in your chair, you notice one of your classmates happily waving her hand in your face
>”I’m Applejack, but my folks call me AJ ‘cause they always have and I ain’t never heard ‘em call me anything else,” suddenly, a wave of confusion washes over her as she starts to count on her hand, “well, ‘cept Jack, Jackie, Jackie Jack, Apple Jackie and Jack Apple.”
>Returning from her state of intense pondering, she flashes you a wink
>”What ‘bout you? What’s yer name, partner?”
“My name?” scratching the back of your head, you let your vision trail to your desk, “It’s uh, Anon.”
>”Well it’s nice to meetcha ‘uh Anon.’”
>”It looks like everyone’s here!”
>Clapping her hands, Ms. Cheer stands in front of the chalkboard patiently waiting for everyone’s attention
>”Hello class! Today is a wonderful, wonderful day, and I can’t wait to spend it with all of you.”
>Motioning towards her name written in cursive, she beams at no one in particular
>”For now, we’ll start by introducing ourselves and something we like to do for fun. I’m Ms. Cheer,” she announces with a bow, “and I love, love, love to learn!”
>Looking at Applejack, she claps and giggles with glee
>”And what about you?”
>Standing up, Applejack turns towards the rest of the class holding up her name card
>”I’m Applejack, but ya can just call me AJ fer short, and something I like to do for fun is pickin’ apples with my family.”
>As she sits back down, you take your cue and stand up yourself, your heart dropping beneath your gut
”H-Hi,” you start, glancing from peer-to-peer as your eyes grow larger in size, “I-I’m... I’m...”
>”This here’s Anon.”

>Terrified, you somehow feel your spine straighten even more than it could possibly be
>Footsteps echo behind you, and when something rests on your shoulder, you take a glimpse back and see Ms. Cheer
>”That’s right, AJ.”
>Lowering herself to your height, she tilts her head to the side in playful curiosity
>”And what’s something you like to do for fun, Anon?”
“I-um, I like workin’ with my papa,” you mumble, focusing on your hands as you fidget with them
>”Wow, that’s very nice of you and AJ to help your parents.”
>Sitting back down, you realize you’ve been holding your breath the entire time and sigh
>Drowning out the voices of the rest of the students, you feel something poke your side
>”Hey Anon,” AJ whispers, leaning closer to you
“Yeah?”
>”Whatcha do with yer dad?”
“Plant seeds’n’stuff, why?”
>Sucking in air, her eyes shine in excitement as she covers her mouth
>”Ya live on a farm?”
“Yeah?” you answer, concern seeping into your voice
>”I do, too! Eh, kinda.”
“Whatcha mean ‘kinda?’”
>”We call it an orchard since we grow fruit trees, but we still grow stuff like you.”
“That’s cool,” you squeak, excitement building in your voice to match
>”I know,” she squeals, tightly hugging her chest, “you and me are gonna be best friends, I can tell.”
>Hearing a throat clear, the two of you glance in Ms. Cheer’s direction
>”Now that we’ve got to know one another, lets get started! Get your colored pencils and crayons out and draw whatever you want on your cards.”

>You know, school ain’t so bad, though it ain’t like what mama was saying it was gonna be
>Searching through your backpack, you pull out your box of coloring supplies
>”Ah shoot.”
>When you lay your box down on the table, you notice AJ pursing her lips
>”Hey Anon, can I use some’a’yers please?”
“Sure.”
>Nudging the box in between you and her, you try and pop open the lid when she wraps her arms around you in a hug
>”Thanks bestie.”
>When she releases you from her embrace, she flips open the top and swipes a red colored pencil
>Whatever we want, huh?
>Reaching for whatever first brushes your fingertips, you pull out a short, green highlighter and tap it against your lips
>Hmm, maybe ya could draw something ‘bout the Daring Do comics?
>Shaking your head, you frown at the idea
>Nah, that ain’t it
>Nibbling on the cap, you roll your eyes to the ceiling as a whirlwind of thoughts whip and soar through your mind
>Ah shoot, ya just don’t know what to do
>Searching for inspiration, your eyes wander to your peers to see them drawing butterflies, rocket ships and lightning bolts
>Peeking over at your partner, you spot her sticking her tongue out as she’s drawing apples
>Can’t really say that yer surprised considering her name is Applejack
>Immediately, your mind kicks into gear about what your dad and uncle tell you
>’Gee, Anon, ya sure ask a lotta questions’
‘Sorry...’
>’That ain’t nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout. It’s a good thing’
>Biting the cap, you yank the highlighter away from you and push the felt tip to the card stock
>Losing yourself in a trance, your hand does it’s magic, swiftly making curves, straight lines and dots
>Finished, you return the gnawed cap back to your highlighter and hold out your card in front of you
>Surrounding your name on either end are three large question marks rotated at varying degrees
>Strangely enough, you feel something in your chest resonate with those green symbols
>”Okay class,” a voice shouts, piercing through your mental fog, “let’s move on to the next activity!”

>Several hours pass by with Ms. Cheer playing games, singing and even dancing until she sends you all outside for recess
>Rocking yourself from heel-to-toe, you watch as the other kids rush to play tether ball, hopscotch, four square and on the playground
>Before you can bumble about trying to figure out what to do, you feel your arm nearly being yanked out of its socket
>”C’mon, lets go.”
>Ow, owie, ouch!
>Sucking in the pain like your good old dad, you focus instead on keeping pace with your energetic friend
>Dragged along by your arm in full view of everyone on the blacktop, you’re led to a group of trees a fair ways away from the swing set
>When Applejack leaves you to scramble up the tree, you grimace and rub your sore shoulder
>”Woohoo,” you hear her holler, hanging upside down from a branch above you
>Not one to be left out of having fun, you plant your feet on the tree’s roots and leap towards a nearby branch
>Catching your hands onto the limb’s rough bark, you hoist yourself up and flip upside down, hooking the nook of your bent legs securely on the branch
>Uncurling your fingertips, your palms slip off and drop alongside your torso
>While the world shifts and your vision corrects itself, you’re left staring at her as she stares back at you
>”Ain’t this fun?”
>Refusing to answer her, you instead cross your arms over your chest with your eyes closed
>Grinning at the sound of her giggling, you bare open your teeth as if you had fangs
“Blah, I’m a vampire, blah!”
>”I vant ta suck yer blood, blah!”
>Laughing like idiots, you just hang there and look at one another when the sound of leaves crunching rings out beneath you
>”Howdy Big Mac.”
>”Howdy.”

>Following her eyesight, you spot an older boy who could only be in a higher grade level
>”That there’s my brother,” she points out, swinging a little on her branch and gesturing to him, “Big Mac, meet Anon. Anon, Big Mac.”
>Spitting in his palm, he reaches up for a slimy handshake
>Woah, that’s what you and Uncle Pseudo do!
>Reaching a hand to your mouth, you spit a healthy glob onto it to meet his shake in kind
>After the slippery introduction, the two of you instinctively wipe your soiled hands onto your jeans
>”E-he-hew, gross!”
“What?” you gawk at her confused, “we were jus’ shaking hands is all.”
>”Eeyup,” he agrees, sitting at the base of the trunk
>”But ya din’t have ta go an make a mess of it,” she whines, shivering in disgust
“It’s jus’ spit.”
>”Eeyup.”
>”But that’s the thing! It’s... ugh,” she groans, her arms dangling to the ground
>Ya know papa said girls could be fussy, but-
>As you finish your thought, you watch in horror as her brother latches his hands onto hers
>”Ew, ew, ew! Let go!”
>”Eenope.”
>Split between cackling and interfering, you hear both the angel and devil on your shoulder briefly arguing before settling on doing nothing
>Chalking it up to siblings being siblings, you merely observe the spectacle with your arms crossed in fascination
>For science, of course
>”Big Mac, would ya quit it?”
>”Alright, alright,” he relents, withdrawing his dry hands to himself
>Frantically wiping her hands on her skirt, her face flush red, she grumbles and grunts barely audible words that would get your heiney beat
>With one final huff, she pouts, her eyes glossing over the sky and drifting over to you
>When your eyes lock onto one another, she rolls them and smirks
>She’ll get used to it, it took you a while, too
>Curling up, you latch onto the branch, pull yourself up and shimmy your way to the tree and lean against the bark
>With a sigh, you sneak a glance and see her doing the same
>Closing your eyes, you enjoy a short nap when the bell rings

>”Everyone inside for lunch!”
>Checking the ground to see if it’s clear, you roll off and land on your feet
>Hitting the dirt running, you hear her keeping pace with your hunger-induced sprint
>Getting in line, you and your peers march to your home room to grab any lunches before heading to the cafeteria
>Entering through the double doors, you make your way to the trays and fill it up high enough it could topple over
>Sliding to the cashier, you stare at them waiting
>”Do you have a student number?”
“No,” you answer, “should I?”
>”Okay, do you have any money with you?”
“N-No.”
>”Oh dear,” they murmur, covering their mouth with a hand as they search the cafeteria, “do you see that lady over there?”
>Following their pointing finger, your eyes rest upon a lady with a scowl, her frown dipping low enough to graze the tile floor
“Her?”
>”Yep, leave your tray here and talk to her and she’ll let you eat.”
>Nope, nuh-uh, ain’t happening
>Not in a million, kagillion years, no siree
>Leaving the tray, you meander your way over to Applejack and sit beside her
>”Guess what I got?” she says, running her fingers over her cherry red lunch box
“Apples?”
>”And?”
“More apples?”
>Groaning, she undoes the lock shaking her head
>”It ain’t just apples, take a peek,” she chides, lifting the lid to leave only a slit
>Peering inside, you can make out a sandwich, some sliced apples and celery with peanut butter slathered in its crevice
>Before you can answer, your stomach rumbles and growls, startling her as she flings the lunchbox open
>”Shoot, ya really are hungry, aren’t ya?”
>Pursing your lips, you gradually lower your head to the table in defeat
>Guess ya aren’t eating today, huh?

>Accepting your current predicament, you notice an apple slice enter your view
>”We can share.”
“I-I can’t.”
>”Whatcha mean ya can’t?” she challenges
>’Cause we work for what we get’ you think, resigning yourself to your hungry fate
>”Oh Anon,” she teases, waving the slice trying to hypnotize you, “ya know ya want what I got.”
“Would ya quit i-mph!” you try to say as your cries are muffled by a slice of her apple
>”There’s more where that came from,” she giggles, having a bite herself
>Ah screw it
>Sitting up, you smile as she rubs her hands with glee
>”That’s the spirit.”
>Splitting her lunchbox evenly, the two of you indulge your appetites with a simple, yet satisfying meal
>When the bell rings, you all return to class and continue the day until it’s time to go
>Exiting the classroom hand-in-hand with Applejack, you head outside to wait for your parents