author's note: i thought i was going to have difficulty keeping this chapter long enough to compare to the other two... surprisingly, this chapter ended up being the longest thusfar! this chapter is a bit of a nod to the reviewer who mentioned the fate of chett and brett- i love them too much to ignore their part of the storyline. and, of course, the song in the beginning is one of the cut songs from the soundtrack- i suggest giving it a listen afterward if you've yet to do so already. the title shouldn't be too hard to figure out.
The next week, in between planting seeds, teaching bar-ba-loots the basics of drumming on pots and pans, and preparing the ground for new growth, the Once-ler spent time at his desk scribbling on papers. These papers would, in turn, become flyers that he casually pinned up to the bulletin boards around town, taping them to store windows when given permission. They were simple- titled "THE TRUTH IS" in flowing script, each handwritten apology explaining the fate of the forest if his mother wasn't stopped. To those who asked, he provided his half of the story- an unspoken challenge to his mother, who refused to see the press under any circumstances.
It was slow at the start, as any true revolution was, starting with an idea and forming into a series of cogs and gears- it wasn't much unlike his factory, needing the help of dozens and only recently working at maximum efficiency. It took time, as most things did, and it started with a few seeds. The Lorax would have beamed and gladly compared the flyers and quips to the growth of a seed or a forest. In a week's time, his bruising had faded and the photographers made sure to get as many shots as long as it lasted, with stories going around to accompany, saying it was abuse, his mother, not the first time it had happened, variations changing around the whos and the whys. He turned a blind eye to the rumours, though he couldn't help a guilty smirk growing at the reputation his mother was getting.
It was in the middle of week two, the lull after the busiest day for most of the businesses, when the Once-ler truly started his own revolution. Wordlessly with his mule, he walked to the very same gazebo he had first sung at just two years ago, and he unpacked half of his kitchen utensils onto the wooden floor. People stared, but it wasn't like the Once-ler wasn't known for being just a tad eccentric. They even started to ignore the ex-entrepreneur in favour of their daily activities until the young man gave a whistle and a small band of bar-ba-loots came into the gazebo with him. Animals from the forest didn't come to Greenville, and when hummingfish and swomme swans joined the ranks, giving high-fins and gleeful honks to the townsfolk, those who were in the streets gave the mismatched crew rapt attention, and those who weren't were called out to watch. Amps were placed by the front of the "stage," and bar-ba-loots picked up pots and pans and strainers and whatever stirring stick or wooden spoon they could fit comfortably in their paws. Swans assembled and fish hummed out-of-tune, testing each other's voice while swans gave self-conscious honks and crows and the Once-ler hooked his guitar (the red one, of course, as flashy and attention-grabbing as it was) up to the amplifiers. Whispers and mutters of "is he serious" and much more malicious theories spread through the now-numerous crowd, watching the absurdly tall man fiddle with his guitar's tuning and strumming absently.
He looked much different than he had two years ago- those who remembered him as the idiot with the fool thneed were surprised to see the enthusiasm since vanished from his movements. He moved with sheer purpose and intensity, a seriousness to him that seemed unnatural and nearly frightening, and a sour chord silenced any mutterings in the crowd as he lifted a fedora-topped head to eye the crowd. For a few seconds everyone watched with unwavering focus, before falling into hushed whispers once again.
"Hey." His voice was loud and sharp and several hummingfish backed him up as the Once-ler stood up straight, the massive charcoal cardigan around him making him seem larger than he was. "No." He inhaled, looking back to his guitar as he strummed a few more notes.
"Booooooodddddy neeeeeds a thneeeeed!" The Once-ler's voice chirped, the youthful energy he'd had buzzing through him in an instant. Hummingfish hummed and beatboxed, bar-ba-loots drumming on pots and pans and colanders, swomme swans conducting it from their perches at the edges of the gazebo.
"Stupid thing no one will ever neeeeeeed~!" He drew out the last syllable, twirling a bit for emphasis, the baggy sleeves of his cardigan flowing in the light breeze it generated. "The thneed is dumb, the thneed is lame! Who's the idiot who came up with that name!" There was a small blink of realisation on his features as he nervously laughed, "Oh, right, it was me…"
"Nobody needs a thneed!" He continued, not skipping a beat and bobbing his head slightly to the rhythm, giving a nod to the bar-ba-loots and hummingfish. "Stupid thing no one will ever need!" Two of the bar-ba-loots furiously beat on a soup pot and a tilted frying pan. "The thneed is dumb! The thneed is lame~ who's the idiot-" he growled the word, "who came up with that naaaame~?" The crowd had taken to bobbing along enthusiastically with the young inventor and his band of animals, some of the children singing along with the hummingfish that had taken to repeating earlier verses.
"Nobody needs a thneed!" A hummingfish with a deep voice had followed this with a "yeah" and the young man twirled with his guitar. "Break it down!" He kicked his feet, spinning his guitar to rest on his back as he continued. "You don't need it, I don't need it!" He hummed, taking a hummingfish and dancing with it comically. People in the crowd had giggled and tittered with him, taking animals hand in hand and wing in fin to dance with and sing along with.
"We don't need it!" People roared, and he smiled, grabbing his hat to keep it on his head as he belted out another riff with prompting from the bar-ba-loots. "Nobody needs a thneed!" This was all going much better than he had planned for, admittedly, and he didn't notice the crowd's singing dying down quite abruptly, still dancing and singing around with his guitar- it wasn't until his guitar was forcefully unplugged from the amplifier that he looked up, dance dying on his feet.
His mother stood before him, and he nervously clutched his guitar to his chest as he watched her tap her foot impatiently. The crowd had watched nervously over the woman's shoulder, and various animals scuttled behind the Once-ler for protection- it had left a nearly palatable tension in the air between them. Her face was set in a disappointed scowl, and he felt his shoulders raising and his head dipping by sheer instinct- even if he was a grown man and no longer a little boy fidgeting under his mother's scrutiny, he never felt like his full height or age around the woman. He swallowed nervously, giving a small giggle that died on his lips.
"Hey, Ma, nice… seein' you here!" He felt a blush rising in his face and to his ears, tapping a foot in anxiety as he took a step back, experimentally.
"Oncie. Just what do you think you're doin' out here? Causin' a big fuss over nothin'? I can't say I'm surprised, but it don't make me any less disappointed in you, boy!" The words were sharp, and he winced and took another step back, feeling his guitar nudge against one of the pillars keeping the gazebo up and his hat nudging over his eyes. "Nobody needs a thneed, Once, really? It's a product with the use of a thousand, you know! You made the darn thing! Heck, most of the crowd's got one already- some of them are already wearin' them!" She motioned to the crowd, and the boy tilted his hat out of his face to survey them. Women took the pink fabric off of their necks, men tried to fold them out of sight, and several people just gave apologetic looks under thneed hats and accessories. "These folks were just humourin' you because you look like a darned fool up here! They didn't wanna hurt your feelins, bless them."
"I'm… I'm sorry, Ma, I…" He was silenced before he could really begin, nearly flush against the column as his mom took another step forward.
"There ain't no sorries or buts, mister! You already done enough damage to the company, you should just go home to your little miserable tent and not show your face around these parts again! Take that fool mule of yours and shove off, how about doin' that? Go on and do that for your mama, Once, because you ain't doin' a damn thing stayin' around in Greenville like you're doin'!" Bar-ba-loots turned to look at the young man, looks of worry and shock on their faces, and hummingfish gaped with open mouths as the could see the Once-ler's bottom lip quivering and rapidly blinking away tears that were threatening to build up at the corner of his eyes.
"Y-yes, ma'am, I'll… y-yeah, this whole thing was… well, it was downright silly of me, wasn't it? I'm sorr-" She cut him off with a sharp glare as he started to apologise, and he simply looked to the ground before kneeling down to gather his kitchen supplies from the animals. "C-come on, guys. Let's go back ho- I mean, to the tent. Yeah." One of the swomme swans gave a mournful honk, only to get a pointed look from the Once-ler's mother. People in the crowd stood silently as they watched the tall man gather up his things, looking to one another and murmuring among themselves. The woman snapped around on her heels, giving the crowd a good long glare until they quieted.
Eyes were on the Once-ler as he slowly put pots and pans back in the saddlebags hanging off of Melvin (who was, despite his mother's glare, giving her a nasty look of his own) and cradled Pipsqueak to his chest. The bar-ba-loot burrowed into his cardigan, and the Once-ler gave a weary smile as he slung his amplifiers over his shoulders- it was going to be a decent trek home, he figured, but he didn't want to leave Melvin to carry most of the equipment back. Hummingfish and swans and bar-ba-loots grabbed utensils and pots, themselves, even going so far as to make a sort of taxi out of two wooden spoons and the largest pot, stacked with utensils and smaller pans and pots- a bar-ba-loot carried the back end, while two hummingfish carried the front end.
A little girl had started to follow the man as he turned to leave town, but her mother pulled her back into her arms and gave an apologetic smile as the Once-ler's mother turned to give a particularly dirty look. When the grey-drab of his clothing disappeared over the hill, followed by speckles of browns and orange and gold, she gave a small, sweet smile.
"I'm so sorry about that, folks! Ya'll can get on with whatever it was ya'll were doin' before my son came along. I promise, we ain't too related…" She laughed, stepping off the gazebo and making her way back to the factory.
"Stupid. Why'd I think that would work?" He groaned, putting his kitchen back the way it was before that morning- he'd have to wash the dishes out before he used them, of course, but that was hardly something new to him.
"I think you did quite well, kid, everybody wa-"
"They were laughing at me, I know it. Ma was right. I just… I thought I could convince them, you know? But that was stupid of me. I… I messed up again, I'm sorry." He took a sharp intake of breath, turning to the forest guardian.
"You did good. Everyone's just scared of your mom, if she hadn't showed up, then-"
"Then what? We'd all disperse and get along to some musical montage about taking down the factory? No, they'd shrug and walk away. They don't care about anything I do, it's only when they get something out of it that the- oh, hey!" He stopped, peering out the window to a small gathering of four or five people. He swallowed, dropping the wooden spoon he'd had in his hand as he pulled a hat and cardigan on and ran out to meet the group.
"We're sorry about… what happened, Mr. Once-ler." One of the people spoke up, an older teenager. "That was pretty harsh." The older man blinked, once, then twice, turning his head quizzically before a young woman spoke up.
"We wanna help you, if that's alright." She asked shyly, hiding behind her hair. "I read your flyers, I think it's really important that the trees stop getting chopped down."
"Yeah." One of the men piped up, and he smiled as he looked at the group.
"Oh… um… u-uh… oh! Come in, please, I'll get you some tea or cocoa, we can… discuss things more properly, it's still far too cold to be sitting out like this." The Once-ler motioned for the townfolk to have a seat in his house, though he realised with a flustered gasp that he really didn't have much room to sit. "No, don't worry guys, they're harmless!" He muttered to the forest animals and humans alike as they fluttered and frightened each other. "Um, you can sit at the bed if you'd like, sorry, I don't really have a kitchen table, there's a chair at the desk and- hold on, I'll get one of the chairs from outside-"
They had settled around the makeshift bedroom, the Once-ler busying himself with making tea for his impromptu guests. He cleared his throat a bit nervously, not really sure what one really did with company, handing cups to everyone and garnishing a little girl's cocoa with a copious amount of marshmallows, sneaking one for himself.
"How do we stop them?" He blew on his cocoa, frowning before he leaned back against the kitchen counter.
"I don't really know. The company, we've- er, they've- got lawyers and enough money to pay away the problems. The security's pretty tight, too, it's not like we could picket on their property… they'd take us away for sure."
"And what's the problem with that?" The teenager stood, clearly ready to fight "the man" blindly.
"If you can think of a way to save trees while locked in a cell, then nothing, I suppose." He muttered, taking a sip from his cocoa and adding more than enough marshmallows to the top once again. "It's better to be more passive- they'll shut us down if we do anything obvious, but they can't expect to get everyone's side if we're just… sitting… here…" He trailed off, looking out his kitchen window to the forest. "That's it!"
The woman sitting on his bed tilted her head to see what it was he was looking at, giving a questioning look to the others in the small tent.
"What's it, Mr. Once-ler?"
"Please, please, you can just call me Once, if you would prefer. But… look! The forest's still here!" He gave a small laugh, setting his cocoa (which was mostly just marshmallow to anyone else, really) on the counter as he motioned. "We'll just sit here! They can't chop down the trees if there's people among them. And… and there's enough room in the clearing to set up tents, and if people bring food I can cook it up and we'll just stay here!"
"Do you think that'll really work, Beanpole?" The Lorax piped up, frightening a few of the guests as he stood at the legs of the young entrepreneur. "The bar-ba-loots tried that and your choppin' machines still went right through their trees."
"What is that?" Someone asked, and the Once-ler waved his hand dismissively.
"He's the Lorax. He speaks for the trees. And… I'd love to say you have a point, mustache, but there's a difference between people and bar-ba-loots. They can't just chop down people's stuff- we've got lawyers and human means to back us up." He held a hand to his chin, smirking a bit. "I mean, as long as the bar-ba-loots are with me, they're safe, too, and-"
"What do you mean we've got lawyers? I'm sure they're nothing compared to Thneedcorp's lawyers…"
"You forget who you're talking to- I'm the one who hired those lawyers. I've got this all covered, monetarily speaking." He scoffed, taking a sip from his cocoa.
"Do you really think it'll work?"
"Well, no, I can't be too sure about that, because I thought for sure the song would work, but… there's nothing to lose by trying, right?" He nodded to himself, popping a cocoa-soaked marshmallow into his mouth.
"Yeah, I guess so." There was a small, contented sigh. "When do we start?"
"Why not right now? I mean, I'm already set up- there's enough space out front for other people to bring tents or whatever. Tell everyone you can! Make sure everyone knows about it!" He hummed, smiling brightly at his guests. "I've got water, and cooking utensils, all of that."
"Wow, that's a lot more than I was expecting!" The Once-ler smiled, watching as families set up tents in the clearing- they'd brought TVs and generators and radios and iceboxes and even the smallest tent had enough room for all of the tenants. Bar-ba-loots and hummingfish investigated, swomme swans testing the strength of the tents, and some of the animals and the Lorax even helped to hold down stakes as they were hammered down. "Let's just see them take down all of us!"
"I dunno, beanpole, that's not something I'd like to see at all…" The Lorax muttered, and the Once-ler ruffled the golden hair of his mustache.
"I meant, there's no way they're gonna!" He waved at the families setting up, beaming as he made his way back to his own cottage. "Ma's not gonna be able to take down all of us… I don't know if she'll even try!"
He should have known, with his luck, and knowing his mother, that she would, indeed, try to uproot the operation when he was so convinced that she couldn't. It probably didn't help that morales were already low a few days into it, bug bites and poor air circulation leaving people sweating and uncomfortable- at least one family had packed up and left with an apology, headed back to the town beginning to be smogged from industry. His mother and aunt Griszelda and his own brothers had shown up with bribes of money and food- he had thought his own cooking was more than enough, and he had offered it and helped to cook food that the tent-goers had brought, though he supposed a number of them were sick to death of vegetarian options. He didn't eat meat and thusly had not the slightest idea of how to cook it, and with all the flammable tents out… it wasn't a good idea to let people set up barbecue pits with open flames. When people left at the promise of monetary bribes, the Once-ler could only watch his mother give him a smirk in return as the clearing in front of his home thinned out. Brett and Chet gave him an apologetic glance as they followed his mother back to town, before she gave a quick snap and took their attention from their ex-brother.
"Look, you wouldn't want weak people like that supportin' you anyway, would you, kid?" The Lorax reasoned as he watched the Once-ler flop lifelessly onto the side of his bed. He gave a heavy sigh and looked at the creature standing next to him before leaning back, the Lorax leaning over him. "You still got more than enough people to make this thing work, you know!" He motioned to the window across from him, and he didn't bother to sit back up.
"I just… I don't know if this is such a good idea after all. I don't think anyone's all that excited anymore, and Ma's just buying them out." He rolled over, clutching a pillow to his chest. "It's really not too much of a surprise, I mean, I… I always mess up everything, and I can't get anything done and my head's always in the clouds and I always needed mom to help me with scheduling because I… I'm just useless." The Once-ler frowned into his pillow, biting his lip to keep from making any audible noise.
"Alright, kid, this ain't a pity party." He took the other pillow on the bed and smacked the boy in the face with it, earning him not even a changed facial expression before he huffed, crossing his arms. "Yer doin' great without your mom around, beanpole! She's just tryin' to get you all riled up. You're your own person, and she knows it- she just don't want you to know it."
"I… I don't know. Ma knows a lot more than I do about a lot of stuff, maybe she's right, maybe I do need her. You think it hurt her feelings when I left? Maybe she's just, maybe I hurt her feelings." He sighed again, looking at the green gaze of the Lorax. "I'll apologise to her tomorrow. I'll go to the factory and see if we can work something out."
"Look, beanpole, that ain't gonna work, I can tell you that right now." The Lorax tried to reason with the human below him, groaning when he rolled over to avoid his gaze. "Suit yourself, kid, but you're not gonna get anywhere. I'm tellin' ya, this sit-in's the best way to go." The Once-ler pulled on the light switch with a long arm, and the nature spirit rolled his eyes as he took his place by the Once-ler's side.
The Lorax accompanied him on the way to the factory, trying every step to talk him out of it before finally succumbing to the human's stubbornness. He chose instead to cloak himself- invisibility being something the Once-ler had no clue he was capable of- and watched the tall man look around quizzically before continuing on his way to the factory doors. The twins granted him access to the offices with a little confusing dialogue toward the two, and he quickly shuffled after the entrepreneur before the doors closed- or they realised their older brother wasn't allowed.
"Mom!" He swallowed, knocking on the door and straightening his clothes as best he could. She always hated when he had even the slightest hair or cloth out of place, after all. "It's… It's Once. I just wanted to talk, and, um, apologise, if I could-" The door opened slightly, his mother's gaze glaring back at him with a sneer.
"Your apologies aren't welcome around here, Oncie. I'm gonna have a good long talk with your brothers for lettin' you in- you ain't welcome in the factory anymore, and I'm gonna hafta ask you to leave pronto." Realising how this was going to go, the Lorax edged away from the two as words continued to exchange, making his way back to the twins. He figured he'd wait for the kid there, and comfort him as best he could despite the nagging "told you so" resting at the back of his mind.
"B-but, I just- I'm sorry I got mad at you, and I left, I just- please, listen to me!" He wedged a foot into the door before his mother closed it, and she shot him a particularly venomous gaze.
"Don't make me call security on you, Once, if you come any further I'll get you for trespassing and assault and- listen to me, young man!" She rose her voice as her ex-son tried to open the door enough to speak to her face-to-face. "Brett! Chett! Come help your mama!" He swallowed, trying to steel his gaze.
"I just wanna talk, Ma. I wanna set things right-"
"You sound just like your father, Once, you gonna start throwin' punches soon too?" The comparison brought the Once-ler to a short gasp, the door slamming on thin fingers as he drew back. He winced as he heard his mother calling for his brothers on the other side of the door, voice ridden with unshed tears and fear that broke his heart to hear. It didn't take long for the twins to show up on either side of him, and he threw his shoulders up in a defeated shrug.
"Don't worry, I know the way out on my own." The two boys followed him, and he glanced over his shoulder to see the two of them giving an expectant look. He figured they were just making sure he left, though they continued even as he went out the doors.
"… You don't have to watch me go all the way back, you know, I'll head back, I promise. She's not gonna listen to me anyway." His brothers looked to each other, and then back down to the Lorax- who he hadn't noticed was following him as well. "Yeah, I know, meatloaf, I'll listen to you- look, guys, he's coming with me, there's no need to-"
"We wanna help too, Oncie." Brett blurted, and the Once-ler's shoulders stiffened.
"What?"
"Ma's not bein' nice to anyone, and she ain't never been very nice to you… this Lorax guy here was tellin' us about them bears and how they gotta go soon if things don't get better. I liked them bears, and Chett did too-" The other twin nodded enthusiastically, giving a thumbs up to the both of them. "And I don't think ain't no one's gonna like things much if we don't got trees." The Lorax gave the Once-ler a wide, knowing grin, and the human smiled back at the three before him.
"But… if you leave, Ma's not gonna let you stay here anymore."
"Don't matter, Oncie." Chett chimed, letting Brett finish with, "I figure we got enough experience livin' outside on a count of the farm."
"No! You're my brothers, you're… you're family, I'm not gonna let you guys just sleep outside." He snapped, looking at his younger brothers. "Look, you two can stay with me in my cottage. I made it big enough for two, and… well, I mean," The Once-ler pulled on his sleeve, holding up a twig-thin arm to the twins. "I'm hardly much of a person, if I turn sideways you two can practically forget I'm there! It'll be fine." He nodded enthusiastically before his face fell, thinking of the rest of the family. "Ma's not gonna be happy, though… I mean, she's gonna be livid when she finds out what you two are up to… you don't have to worry about it, you can stay here and have food and shelter and… Ma'll still like you two and you'll be happy."
"Shucks, Oncie, you're our brother and even tho Ma says we ain't too smart, we know we gotta stick with you because we's smart enough to see that you gotta do somethin' about all of this smog an' stuff." Brett ruffled his older brother's hair, one of the few people who could actually reach the Once-ler's height with relative ease.
"Them fishies gotta sing and I dunno 'bout them bears but I'd be real sad to see them leave. It's all quiet an' machine-y outside the factory, I kinda miss how it used ta be. At least on the farm, there weren't no creakin' all night, even if you were up runnin' around like a chicken wit' your head cut off tryna work on them projects of yours." Chett mimicked his brother, ruffling the opposite side of the Once-ler's hair, a dopey grin on his face.
"What do ya say, kid? You back in for that strike of yours?" The Lorax questioned, standing atop a rock to get any sort of height closer to the three brothers. He pretended to look disinterestedly at his claws, giving a slight glance upward to see the Once-ler pull his brothers into a hug.
"Y-yeah!" He grinned, leading the group back to his cottage- he'd be surprised to find several of the tents had been put back up, and that even more people had come while he'd been away trying to reason with his mother. The brothers gave a round of high fives, the Once-ler's arm and palm feeling quite sore afterward, though he wore a large grin in response, giving the Lorax a small fist bump of victory before turning his attention to a camp full of hungry petitioners, spatula in hand and apron at the ready.