Lil note for all you Normaler fans out there - in this story, Ted isn't their grandchild. They do have a history, just...yeah - no kid. Just thought I'd put that out there so as not to confuse anybody.

Sorry, sorry - alright, continue.

-

Though the Truffala sprouts, a collective, it seemed, by the way that they grew, came almost up to your knee when you walked amongst their stalks, the wind still blew heavy with the smell of soured butterfly milk and lingering smog. You still couldn't go out too long in the rain. Every time the air hissed with the sound of heavy black droplets, the Once-ler and Lorax had to scramble to spread tarps out over the smaller sprouts, fearful they'd damage or, worse, die out in the fields.

They were seeing more swammy swans though. More and more each day.

It was getting better, the Once-ler smiled, staring up when the shadow of one cooled his neck passing above his front porch. He let out the sigh squeezing deep in his chest. Finally, it was getting better.

The honk of horn, close and disconcertingly loud, jarred him from his thoughts.

"You're gonna kill that cactus if you keep watering it like that!" Came the sound of Norma shouting over the sputtering kick of her car.

"Gah!" he fumbled with the watering can, almost dropping it when he jumped. Sure enough, a murky pool was now floating up to the rim of his cactus pot. He chuckled nervously and tipped it over the railing, knocking the side of the pot so that soggy flecks of dirt flew out.

"Nah, it'd take more than a little water to kill these guys. They've been with me this long after all." He called back. And it was true. His cacti were the only things hardy enough to muscle through the smogulous smoke that hung, thinner now, over his Lerkim. One could say they practically thrived in it. He furrowed his brow for a moment at that thought – he'd never thought to worry if they'd have trouble surviving in the new cleaner environment. He hoped not - he was rather fond of them after all. He'd even gone so far as to name a few, like the one he currently held in his hands as he set it gingerly back down on the porch.

Melvin…

His favorite…

It was the sound of Norma's voice again that shook him from his thoughts. She always did have that habit, he smiled.

"You going to make an old woman carry all these boxes in?" she hollered with a laugh in her voice.

Once-ler stowed his watering can on the steps and moseyed over to the car. "Now that's not fair! You can't play the age card, now, I'm just as old as you!"

Today was moving day. The Lorax had sat him down a few weeks ago and confided, very earnestly, that he was worried about him staying out here by himself. There was no reason to keep punishing himself, he'd explained – the Truffala trees were growing bigger and stronger each day. What damage he'd done was being repaired, finally, after all these years. He could live his own life now if he chose, and the Lorax, with all the sincerity of a true friend, told him he wanted to see him chose to live for himself, after decades of wallowing in regret over his life.

The Once-ler had been touched, sincerely touched, to know that someone, anyone, wanted that for him; he'd even given the Lorax a hug, though he knew he wasn't too fond of them. It worked out perfectly too, since the Lorax was setting off for a while to search beyond the valley, eager to find any animals that were willing to come back. Norma's daughter had been nice enough to offer him a stay at their home while he looked for a house in Thneedville, so all that was left was to clean house, and Norma and Ted were more than willing to help him.

Ted hopped out of the car first, rubbing tiny, pained circles into the back of his next. "I'm glad I won't have to make THAT trip too many more times," he muttered, more to himself, and cracked his back.

Once-ler ambled towards him and, with a warm smile, patted the square of his back.

"Well at least you got a better pair of wheels this time than that scooter. Now tell me, where in all of Thneedville did you guys steal this hot rod from?"

It reminded him of those race cars his uncle used to watch zipping around in circles on TV when he was a kid. The thing was bright red, just like the race cars, and even had a stripe racing down it. Preposterously large wind breakers commanded your view of the back. Though he scoffed at the car's size - entirely unnecessary, he grumbled - he secretly marveled at its design. He was amazed at how quickly things had changed since the last car he'd seen – this thing was so much slicker, so much rounder, and, perhaps most importantly, there wasn't a crank to start her up. It made him dizzy just thinking how fast it could go.

He sniffed. "I'd say it's too much car to handle, but then again, I know the little lady who's driving…"

She was scurrying down the stack of phone books loaded up in her seat so that she could reach the wheel. Planting both feet on the upholstery, she jumped with such finesse the few feet to the ground she didn't even drop her summer hat, a big bright green thing, with a white ribbon around it.

"Oh, Helen let me take this little baby out for a spin. She figured Ted's scooter wouldn't do too well as a moving van." She said, poking him playfully with her cane. "We still brought it along though. Maybe Ted here can teach ya how to ride it."

Both Ted and the Once-ler quickly held up their palms and waved the suggestion away, stammering "No, no, that's ok."When they noticed the other's mirrored reaction, they shared a shy smile.

"I'm quite alright where I am, Norma," the Once-ler asserted, "with both my feet firmly on the ground. Stop trying to coax me into one of those…those…slick roadster whatsits…"

"They're called scooters, dear," she called, her face hidden behind boxes now that she'd taken them out of the back seat.

"I know what a scooter is. That…do-hickey Ted zips by on isn't one." He grunted, the wind swept out of him - oof, when she tossed her load unceremoniously into his outstretched arms. He even stumbled back a bit from the weight. Good lord, he thought, it was hard to believe he'd grown THIS feeble. She loaded Ted up too, until both of them could barely see where they were going.

"Alright, boys, lets get to work. Nothing's ever gotten done by standing around!" She marched on ahead, an inexplicably formidable force despite her short-stature and cane. Knowing better than to argue, her two boys shuffled after her, tripping up the stairs.

—

They stumbled into the ill-light of his living room, stuffy and windowless, though it was shining bright with midday just outside. The Once-ler jimmied the light switch on with a shuffling elbow. Better. But not by much.

The room had the odd quality of seeming sparse and cluttered at same time, or so Ted thought – it was his first time ever setting foot in the Lerkim. Practically everything within it, even the picture frames, was worn beyond redemption. There was very little furniture, no coffee table and barely any chairs, but there were shelves, plenty of shelves, and Ted found the majority of his attention drawn to studying them.

Sprinkled along their ranks was a completely random assortment (to his eye) of old light bulbs, clouded with disuse, arranged eerily in perfect single file line, along with, among other things, scatterings of tea cups, spoons, utensils Ted had never even seen before, crayons and drawing supplies, a few books, one or two monstrously bigger than the other, a flapping tongue old boots, some kind of turkey baster, guitar strings, and – to him at least, the most inexplicable - a single ski.

Ted dumped his boxes to the floor and stared out at the hoard's entirety.

"Why…?" he couldn't manage to get the question out, and resorted to pointing.

The Once-ler chuckled, "Well I can't just have shelves with nothing on them!" He waddled over and dropped his boxes on the single large item of furniture in the room, a faded coach that, judging by the stains, might have been plaid green at some point. The grating squeak of springs welcomed its burden. He turned to see Ted reaching up to tug at the ceiling fan cord.

"Wait – don't do that!" Click.

As the blades began to spin, marbles rolled off in all directions from on top of the blades, clinking hard when they collided with the wood floor and rolling off to hide inconveniently beneath furniture and end tables and nestle hidden in corners.

"Darn it, and I worked so hard to get them to stay…" He gave a frustrated snap and scratched at his chin. Utterly confused, Ted was at a loss as to what to say, but sorry seemed vaguely appropriate.

The Once-ler waved him away. "Naaaah, it's was just a little invention I had in the works. But I guess it doesn't matter not that I'll be leaving here soon anyway. Not like I can take the ceiling fan with me, hmmhmm" He gave that odd little laugh that Ted thought made him seem a lot younger than he actually was. "Anyway, lets see…Norma, you seem to be the one in charge here. Where do you want us to start?"

"Oh, am I now?" She hid her cheek in her hand,pretending to be abashed. The news was far from new to her. "Well, if you say so…Ted!" She cracked her cane loudly against her palm. He snapped to attention.

"Yes ma'am!" his voice cracked.

"I want you in the kitchen! If it isn't expired, nailed down, or, for god's sake, breathing, I want it in a box, labeled, and sealed up – is that clear?"

"Yes ma'am!" he repeated. Turning quickly on his heel, he scooped up a few boxes and stomped off down the hall to the kitchen. Once-ler watched him, slightly in wonder.

"Oncie!" she turned her attention on him next. He gulped, and found himself imitating Ted.

"Your mission is to head upstairs to your room and pack away any and all clothes that you ever expect to wear again. Everything that isn't in a box in one hour is going in the trash. Do you accept?"

He was trying hard not to laugh. He'd always loved that cute little serious face of hers, the way her lip pouted and her brow would grow stern. He smiled in spite of himself.

"Norma, please, is this really necessary-"

She yanked him down by his thneed before he could finish."Do you accept?"

He yelped an affirmation and hurriedly started up the stairs, barely remembering to grab some boxes beforehand.

She hummed to herself once they were both gone. Men, she smiled, it didn't matter what age. They were all the same~.

Still humming, she set her hat on the end table, dusting it off first of course (it didn't look dirty, but she wasn't taking any chances in this house). Though she'd intended to start tidying up without another moment's pause, she stopped in mid-motion, her eyes caught by an object across the room. Oh, she gasped – now there was something…