A/N: All right, here's the next one. I just got to thinking: what was the Once-ler up to before Ted came around? I consider the old Once-ler a bit eccentric… so why not have him do something normal and see how that works out for him? The other thought that I had while watching the movie was: when did the great, great, great grandfather snail manage to find its way into the Once-ler's Lurkim? Anyhow, read, enjoy, and don't forget to tell me what you think! (Thanks to all those who have, by the way)

It had been a long time. A very long time; living alone in my Lurkim with none but the crows to tell of the passing hours... years. The pain of being young had dimmed with age, although I was reminded of it every day when I looked out of my poorly-boarded window. I couldn't remember why I had covered my window; it had been an impulse long gone, but I couldn't bring myself to tear it down. It separated me from the rest of the world – as it should.

The inside of my Lurkim's uppermost dwelling was plain and slightly unkempt. One would think I'd have a lot of time to clean it up. Well, I did, but I still didn't bother. I sat down on my bed and opened a book, hoping to read a few chapters before the hidden sun went down. Perhaps it wasn't as late as I thought; or maybe it was much later in the day, but I hardly noticed when what little natural light there had been was replaced by the warm glow of my lamp.

Chapter six – I decided – was a completely pointless chapter. The author just rambled on about the scenery, not that I couldn't imagine such a place. It was hard not to when a whole chapter was dedicated to the mere description of it. I eventually ended up skipping it when I was half-way through, moving on to chapter seven. I couldn't have missed much, right? Two lines into the new chapter, I realized that I had no idea why the protagonists were suddenly fighting for their lives in zero gravity, without oxygen or space gear, and with a strange dog-like person literally barking orders at them. So I resigned myself to finishing chapter six. I soon decided that this author was a lunatic; for by the time I finished the chapter, there had been absolutely no lead-in as to why the protagonists were where they were. I set the book aside, promising myself I would burn it later.

I took a glance outside, realizing with a start that it had gotten fairly dark. Where had the time gone? Not that it mattered too much, but it really would be nice to know that I still had the ability to keep track of it.

A rumbling noise met my ears. At first I thought it might be thunder. Though no rain ever fell, the odd storm would pass overhead and wake me from a good dream or two. But this rumbling was different; it was constant. More like a motor. It was getting closer. A slight sense of both dread and curiosity engulfed my senses, and I peeked out the window. A small form was moving quickly down the road towards my Lurkim. Oh, great. Visitors. Hadn't had one of those in a long while. The last one was a young girl that wanted to hear about trees. She was incensed when I told her my story, and appalled when I revealed my part in it. She expressed her desire to see a tree, to watch one grow in her back yard. Had she not been so young at the age of four, I might have considered the option of giving her the seed. But for some strange reason, I just couldn't bring it upon myself to trust her. This was all before I had booby-trapped my door, of course.

Now a new visitor would doubtless want one of two things: to hear about what happened to the trees, or to fulfill a childish dare to ring my doorbell. I almost felt bad for the kids who did the latter... but not really. It was quite funny when they ran away, to be completely honest. However, up until that point it was all just irritatingly annoying. Didn't they have any respect for the creepy old hermits that lived in wastelands; cut off from all forms of society and going a little bit crazy as a result?

The rumbling of the motor stopped, and I took another glance out of my window at the advancing figure. Looked like a young boy of not more than thirteen. He crept up to my Lurkim, evidently more than a little nervous, jumping in fright when he knocked down my railing. The little brat. He disappeared from my line of sight as he stepped onto the porch. I could almost imagine him hesitating before ringing the bell. Perhaps he'd think better of it; I really didn't feel like dealing with him right now. I heard him yell out as he flew through the air, intending to give him a piece of my mind when the claw brought him up.

"Who are you and what are you doing here!" I asked as I leapt up to the window boards to get a better look at this kid. He was swinging back and forth in the grip of the claw. He freaked out a bit when I tried to grab him through the boards, but still managed to tell me his name. "Ted Wiggins" it was.

"Are you the Once-ler?" He asked. I wasn't phased. All the kids that came here knew my name from the (completely made-up, mind you) horror stories that their friends would tell them about me.

"Didn't you read the signs? No one is supposed to come here!" He started to protest when I pulled a lever that dropped him to the ground. He stood and swiped the dirt from his jeans, obviously not too happy with me.

"And don't let the boot hit you on the way out," I said, still smiling but with an air of finality as the boot hit him in the rear end. I wanted this kid to know that the conversation was over, and that he should probably leave. Right now. To my surprise, he came right back. Did he want to go through all of this again? I almost sighed.

"People say that if someone brings you this stuff, that you'll tell them about trees." He called up to me, pulling a few objects from his pocket and holding them out.

"Trees?" I said before I could stop myself. He was probably still talking, but I was instantly lost in memory. I had been avoiding that single word for the longest time. I knew the subject would be brought up eventually; I mean, I was just thinking about the little red-haired girl that asked me of them. But it did nothing to prevent the imminent reverie that consumed my thoughts when it was vocally mentioned.

"Um, hello?"

"Oh, sorry, it's just... well I didn't think anyone still cared about trees," I answered in all honestly.

"Well that's me! The guy who still cares!" I didn't really believe him, but there was something about the kid's determination that told me I might as well go ahead and tell him the story.

"You want to know about trees, why they're all gone...?" I started. Maybe this kid could handle the truth, maybe not. But as I told the story, there was something in his manner that revealed his true reason for coming was not initially to find out what happened to the trees; and when he interrupted me, I got a bit annoyed, I'll admit. When the Lorax came into the picture, however, his eyes got wide and I saw him begin to take interest. Unfortunately, that wasn't enough. I needed to know that he really did care, so I broke off the story and told him to come back tomorrow. He protested, but eventually yelled up to me that he'd be back the next day. I watched him leave from the window.

"Maybe. Just maybe."

Turning back towards my bed, I decided against going to sleep for the moment. I wandered down the steps... they seemed to have gotten steeper over the years. Walking over to the door, I replaced the string holding the mallet to the spot, and realigned the mechanisms that led from the doorbell to the scissors. Making sure it was tight enough that it wouldn't go off, I opened my dark purple door and stepped outside onto the filthy porch. Walking around my Lurkim, I kept my eyes to the ground, searching. Ah, there it was. I reached down and gently scooped up the great, great, great grandfather snail in my gloves, and walked back inside. No creature deserved to be left alone outside in a place like this. I almost laughed at the thought. Except me, of course.

Back up in the top room, I settled down to bed, the great, great, great grandfather snail atop my desk.

"Do you think it'll be him?" I asked, turning the tiny seed over in my hands. The snail somehow achieved a hopeful look.

"Well," I said as I turned out the light, "we'll see. We will see."