Season 1, Episode 6 - The Tree Plot XVI - "The Regular Show, aka the 150th Chapter Palooza"

A light rain didn’t stop the efforts of the Society for the Betterment of New Yorkers that Tuesday morning. An hour or two ago, several trucks had driven through the open gates into the New York Quarter in southern Narragansett, passing by children playing where the long metal gate to the ghetto once stood. The gate had been torn down, yet the people inside still rarely passed beyond the walls.

The trucks carried with them dozens and dozens of crates, all of them filled with cans of soup, mashed potatoes, corn, cranberry sauce, and the occasional ham and turkey. When the final truck pulled into its spot, the Society got to work, unloading the crates off of them despite the drizzle. On and on the work went, since they would be feeding an entire ghetto.

A worker stood in the back of one truck, handing down crates. It was Alfie's turn to take the next one. He carried it with ease, stepping along the muddy ground outside the large brick building that served as the New York Quarter’s soup kitchen.

Several ghetto inhabitants helped unload the trucks as well. They wore scalley caps and overalls - and armbands, blue ones that designated them as New Yorkers. Alfie saw more children playing, tossing a football around, seemingly unaware of the armband wrapped around their throwing arms. The men and women unloading the trucks smiled at each other, as if they didn’t have the weight of the band weighing them down.

Alfie himself didn’t need to wear an armband anymore. He was part of the Academy now. Officially, at least. His mind still felt like it was being dragged in several different directions, but his arm felt as light as a feather.

That’s all I ever wanted. An arm without that chain around it.

Yet I don’t feel satisfied. Is it because I can’t tell if I’m New Englander or New Yorker, or is it because everybody else still has to wear an armband?

“These aren’t going to deliver themselves,” Mackenzie reminded him, stepping past him. Alfie just shook his head to clear his daydreams and followed after her.

“You still haven’t told me why you’re helping out with this,” Alfie called out to her. Mackenzie was one of those people who naturally walked really fast, so he had to quicken his pace to catch up to her. She proudly wore her Academy greatcoat with its distinctive spiral galaxy Rddhi patch on the shoulder, making many New Yorkers look at her sideways.

None of the Academies ever showed an interest in the Quarter, so no wonder they’re giving her odd stares.

As for Alfie himself, he just wore a neutral-looking rain jacket, perfect to blend in with the crowd.

“I told you before, didn’t I?” Mackenzie answered. “I’m your effing Class Rep, that’s why.”

“Still, this is going out of your way, isn’t it?”

Mackenzie headed inside the brick building, Alfie following after her. Dozens of people scurried around inside, unloading all the food and equipment necessary for the soup kitchen to serve a Thanksgiving dinner to a ghetto that couldn’t afford it.

They arrived in a back storage room filled with crates. “Well, I seem to recall that you haven’t told me either,” Mackenzie said as she set down her crate.

Alfie set his own crate down next to hers. He took a seat on it and cracked his neck. “Fine.” He paused for a moment, wanting to find the right words. “After the Academy captured me, somebody showed me kindness in this foreign country I found myself in. It made my new reality far more welcoming. Maybe I just want to pay it forward to the people in this ghetto. Show them some kindness in this foreign country they’ve found themselves in.”

Mackenzie sat on the crate next to him and cracked a smile. “How cheesy. I’ll give you a pass, though. If that's how you feel about me, I'm pretty flattered."

Alfie realized what she meant. “...the person who showed me that kindness was Isaac. I mean, you did too, but I was really referring to Isaac.”

Mackenzie crossed her arms and looked away. “Tch.”

“Ha-ha. Now, tell me why you’re really here.”

Mackenzie watched as two more New Yorkers came in and deposited their crates before leaving. “What do you think makes New Englanders and New Yorkers different? It can’t be blood or genetics. Biologically, we’re all alike.”

Alfie nodded along as Mackenzie continued. “Yet, we're different. It can’t be due to scientific reasons. It has to be due to social reasons. It’s culture. Culture is what makes us ‘us’ and them ‘them’. But, because culture is a social idea, it’s malleable. So, if ‘us’ reaches out to ‘them’ and makes them see the values of our culture, there’ll be peace between us.”

Alfie kept nodding along until the very end. “Wait…what? The values of your culture?”

Mackenzie eyed the New England flag on her greatcoat. “Their culture is just lawless greed and plutocracy. Our culture is based on the ideals of the American Revolution.”

Alfie just shook his head. “New York is a democracy. Your country is ruled by a dictatorship.”

“The goal is to provide life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. If a benevolent dictatorship can better provide that than a corrupt democracy, which would you pick?”

“Democracy,” Alfie answered. It was an easy choice.

This time, Mackenzie shook her head. “Everybody tells me that New England is filled with propaganda, but democracies slam their populaces with propaganda, too. Everybody assumes democracy must be good. But why?”

“It gives the people freedom.”

“Freedom to what?” Mackenzie questioned. “To vote in the next rotation of plutocratic oligarchs who immediately renege on their campaign promises?”

Alfie crossed his arms. “As opposed to your oligarch who’s been running the show for a decade now.”

The storage room had a small window at the top of a wall; Mackenzie watched the rain fall outside. “Democracy had its chance two hundred years ago. If we try it again, we’ll be doomed to make the same mistakes until it ends in another Unleashing. I genuinely want to help people. I just need them to see things the same way I do.”

Alfie watched the rain fall as well. “That’s literally what a dictator is.”

Mackenzie laughed. “Look at us. We basically got political on Thanksgiving. We must be fun at parties.”

She then stood up from the crate. “Now, c’mon. Let’s finish this delivery.”

After a moment, Alfie stood alongside her and followed her out the door.

Can someone’s heart really be in the right place for all the wrong reasons?

An hour later, Mackenzie arrived home, just as the rain cleared up. She let Audrey and Lynn hang out there because she still felt bad about rigging the boxtops; if Audrey and Lynn wanted to relax at her place, all the better. And, since her usual cleaning schedule got interrupted by helping Alfie with the New York Quarter deliveries, she didn’t mind Audrey and Lynn agreeing to clean while they were there.

With a yawn from all the physical labor that morning, Mackenzie stepped inside her apartment. She found nothing out of the ordinary. Audrey and Lynn were currently playing cards at the table; for some reason, they were already dressed in their suits.

“Hiya, Mackenzie!” Lynn called out. Audrey also called out in greeting.

“Hey guys,” Mackenzie said, taking off her greatcoat. “What’s with the suits?”

Audrey grinned. “They look good, don’t they! I know the Tree Plot isn’t for a few hours, but we might as well look good all day!”

Mackenzie chuckled. “Well, that makes sense to me…I guess.” She briefly glanced at her counter - the Golden Trowel was still there, safe and sound. The Academy entrusted Mackenzie with bringing it to a goldsmith for cleaning and shining - and to bring it to the groundbreaking ceremony in Russet afterwards. The cleaning and shining was all set; though, when she looked at it closely, the Trowel did seem a little less radiant than before.

Oh well. I did get it shined a few days ago. Maybe my ability to get things done quickly and early is both a blessing and a curse.

“H-hey, Mackenzie!” Lynn called out, grabbing both of her shoulders from behind. “Let’s get you in your suit, huh? You’ll look great!”

Mackenzie forgot all about the Trowel. “Well, if it makes me look great…”

Some time later, Mackenzie did look great. With Audrey and Lynn behind her, she admired herself in the mirror.

Wearing a suit. I feel powerful. I need a briefcase!

But then she frowned at the sight of her face. Most of the bruises and blood vessel bursts from the Combat Simulation have cleared up, but still…I got these odd red and purple splotches on part of my face. I wonder if Alfie noticed them.

“Do you feel like a CEO?” Audrey asked. “You look like one!”

That boosted Mackenzie’s confidence. She flexed the collars of the suit and ran a hand along the tie.

“I feel like I want to sell someone something,” Mackenzie said.

Lynn clapped. “That’s the spirit!”

Mackenzie smiled and then left her room. “I want to see how I look with the Trowel in my hands.”

“W-wait!” Audrey called out right as Mackenzie arrived at the Trowel in the kitchen. Mackenzie paused her outstretched hand and glanced back; both Audrey and Lynn briefly had desperate looks on their faces before uneasy smiles returned. “What if something happens to the Trowel while we play around with it? We should leave it alone until the ceremony.”

“I’ll carry it to the Ceremony!” Lynn added. “I’ll make sure to take extra care of it!”

Mackenzie sighed and smiled. “You’re right, guys. Maybe those suits are making you more responsible. I’ll just leave it alone-”

That’s when Mackenzie noticed some sort of liquid in the middle of the Trowel. She immediately knelt to examine it.

The room went silent.

“Audrey, Lynn…I’m not seeing wet paint on the Trowel, am I?” Mackenzie asked without looking back at them, her voice shaky.

Audrey and Lynn kept quiet.

“I’m not seeing the trowel I use for my plants painted yellow, am I?”

Audrey and Lynn kept quiet.

“I’m seeing the actual Golden Trowel, right?”

Audrey and Lynn looked at each other; they sighed.

About forty-five minutes ago.

Lynn stood on Audrey’s shoulders. “Almost there!” she called out as Audrey groaned from the exertion of keeping Lynn elevated.

The Trowel had firmly implanted itself in the ceiling; this was their attempt to retrieve it. Lynn had her arm stretched as far as it could go.

“Just a little more…” Lynn’s first swipe missed the Trowel completely. With her second swipe, she managed to graze the Trowel with her fingers.

“One more time!” Lynn called out. Down below, Audrey’s knees buckled as she struggled to stay balanced with Lynn pushing her limits at the top.

Lynn took a deep breath, then lunged for the Trowel. Her hand connected tightly with it, and it exited the ceiling with a satisfying unplugging noise. Then, Audrey made an unsatisfying crying noise; all the movement had knocked her off balance.

Lynn's vision blurred as she fell through the air. It felt like a lifetime, but really only lasted a second; when she landed, she felt something crack beneath her. After taking a moment to rub her head, she scooched over to see what she landed on.

Audrey and Lynn looked at the Trowel - broken in two separate pieces - then at each other.

“...aw, rats…”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU JUST USE A RDDHI VINE TO REACH IT!” Mackenzie cried out, shaking both Audrey and Lynn deliriously.

Audrey thought about it, then sighed. “I’m unworthy of this suit.”

“We panicked, Mackenzie!” Lynn called out. “We knew we needed to do something!”

“That’s right, you are going to do something!” Mackenzie yelled. “The Trowel will be passed along to all the Academy and State Police and Military Police representatives there during the ceremony! The Golden Trowel is made of gold! They’ll be able to tell a fake in an instant!"

Mackenzie shook them harder. "We need to fix this!”

“We tried!” Audrey exclaimed. “We tried to glue it back together, but the gold was too heavy!”

“We need to solder it!” Mackenzie corrected. “It’s solid gold!”

Slowly, Mackenzie stopped shaking them; Audrey and Lynn collected their bearings.

“The ceremony is in five hours,” Mackenzie said quietly. “To fix something made of solid gold that fast is impossible.”

Mackenzie sat down at her kitchen table and put her head in her hands. “They trusted me to bring that to the ceremony. If the peace talks break down because I couldn’t bring the Trowel there…”

She buried her head deeper in her hands and started sobbing.

To put it bluntly, Audrey and Lynn felt very uncomfortable.

“Remorseful, too,” Lynn mumbled. She and Audrey gathered for a huddle.

“We need to fix this,” Audrey whispered. “But how?”

Lynn knew she wasn’t a leader. Mackenzie was the leader here. But when she sobbed even louder, Lynn gritted her teeth. She left the huddle and put a hand on Mackenzie’s shoulder.

“I got us into this mess,” Lynn declared. “I’m going to get us out of it. Audrey, get the phone book and call all the soldering shops in town. Maybe there’s one that can do a quick fix.”

When Audrey nodded, Lynn looked at the telephone. “But first, I need to make a call.”

“To who?” Audrey asked.

Lynn gathered her courage. “The same person who helped me with the microwave.”

Audrey nodded solemnly.

“Babs."