This is the other Grinch story I started back in 2018 to explore the question, "What is the Grinch like after he steals Christmas?" This one was a lot more fun because I get to write him being grouchy without being mean or bad-natured, like Grumpy Bear. He hasn't mellowed out as much as he did in the other one, and he's not preoccupied with his own sadness. Like the last story I use all of the material written by Seuss himself to mine for details to flesh out the world, but not from the movies made after his death. Yes, that includes The Grinch Grinches the Cat in the Hat. No, I don't know where that falls on the timeline. I imagine that Halloween is Grinch Night took place the autumn before he steals Christmas, and at the time Euchariah was around nine. This is only a few years later; Cindy Lou is five and Euchariah is twelve or thirteen.


It was the day before Christmas when Cindy Lou Who woke up to the most unfortunate sight to ever befall her young eyes, and that was her Christmas tree, still adorned with ornaments and strung with multicolored lights, sitting dead in her living room. It had been the victim of a peculiar blight affecting Christmas trees in the Whoville area. The tree sold to Cindy Lou's family seemed to have been spared at first, until this morning when she discovered it dead as a coffin nail, sitting upright in the house with a carpet of brown needles beneath it. After she had hysterically woken her parents with news of the tragedy, they found themselves unable to solve her problem; the last Christmas tree of the season had been sold two days before, and none more would be ready until next winter. It seemed incomprehensible, but Cindy Lou's family would be spending Christmas without a Christmas tree.

The Grinch found this unacceptable. He himself wasn't entirely fond of Christmas trees, as they were to him a colorful distraction. It was part of the reason he hadn't thought too highly of Christmas, before he saw the beauty of how they brought people together. Even though he himself didn't want one in his cave, he understood why one was pleasant to have in the house. So, in order to make his favorite little Who girl happy, he put on his striped scarf, picked up his hatchet, and went out in the woods with the intention of bringing her a Christmas tree.

It was cold out, with fresh, powdery snow fallen all over Mount Crumpit, covering his footprints from the night before until he could no longer see where he had been. It clung to his fuzzy feet, but they were so insulated by his fur that the flakes didn't even melt from his body heat. He moved effortlessly through the snow, kicking up small tufts of powder, as he went down the mountain checking every tree he passed for suitability; it had to be tall, but not more than half a foot taller than he. It had to be thick and green, with no trace of pests or nesting critters, with no large bare spots. Most of all, it had to have many sturdy branches, as Cindy Lou's family had an ever-growing collection of ornaments made by the children and friends of the family.

Max was following in the snow behind the Grinch, bounding happily along, kicking up snow and biting at it in the air. He made sure to sniff every tree the Grinch checked to make sure the Grinch's assessment was accurate. So far Max had no disagreements, though he did make sure to mark most of the trees as his own after the Grinch rejected them.

Finally, he found the perfect one: not to tall but not too short, thick, green, with healthy needles and no animals currently using it as shelter or to store food. The Grinch grabbed a handful of branches and gave them a hearty shake, but no needles fell from the effort. He checked the bark for signs of the blight that had claimed so many other Christmas trees, but none of the telltale signs were present. With a smug grin, the Grinch said, "Well, Max, I believe we've found it."

Max let out a bark of approval.

"Stand back, now," the Grinch commanded, holding up the hatchet. It was a small tool, really more suited for splitting wood than cutting down trees, but the tree itself was small and the stump was thin, and the Grinch really didn't feel like bringing his ax down into town to have it sharpened, only to come back up, cut down the tree, and then bring that down into town. That sounded like far too much work for him, and while he would do it if he had to, for Cindy Lou's sake, the fact was he didn't have to, so he wasn't going to.

The Grinch swung the hatchet and it connected with the stump with a mighty thwack! The sound echoed all throughout the mountainside as the snow fell from the branches in flurries. This was quickly followed by another, and then another, before the trunk gave out and the tree fell down into the snow with a mighty thump. The Grinch smiled, and then dropped his hatchet in the snow. "Here, Max, carry this for me," he said as he gripped the tree trunk with two hands.

Max picked up the hatchet and then nearly tipped over, as the head was so much heavier than the handle, but after dropping it and gripping it by the shoulder, he found he could carry it in this teeth with ease. Meanwhile the Grinch was already dragging the tree along, leaving a wake of disturbed snow to mark his path down the mountain. The tree was heavy, but the Grinch was strong.

Neither of them paid any attention to the tree stump after the tree had been removed from it. They didn't see the creature that emerged from it, a short, brownish-colored creature covered in mossy fur which came right out of the stump and positioned himself atop it to see what had happened to the tree. It wasn't that hard to figure out; even if the Grinch had been long gone by the time, he had left a perfectly visible trail straight to him.

"Excuse me!" the creature called, running to catch up with the Grinch and cutting him off. "Hey! You there! With my tree!"

The Grinch stopped in his tracks and looked down. The creature wasn't even half as tall as the Grinch, but he was standing with his back straight and one arm held out in a clear stopping gesture. "Excuse me," said the Grinch, leaning down to push the creature out of his way. "I need to get this into town and back up to the cave before nightfall. The Whos will want me to stay and talk and eat with them, and that takes a lot of time, so if you don't mind..."

"I actually do mind, thank you very much!"

"And who are you, exactly?"

With this, the creature puffed up his chest and declared, "I am the Lorax! I speak for the trees! I speak for the trees, for the trees have no tongues!"

"All right. What are you doing here, then?"

"I'm here to ask you why you cut down that tree and where are you taking it?"

"I'm bringing it to a family in Whoville. Their first Christmas tree was claimed by a blight and I'm bringing a replacement."

"A Christmas tree? So you've chopped down one of my perfectly good pine trees to drag into someone's house where it can slowly die while you string fairy lights on it? Is that what you're telling me?"

"Well, at this point I can't very well put the tree back, so..." The Grinch gestured with one hand for the Lorax to step aside.

The Lorax remained standing. "Do you even know how long it took for that pine tree to grow that big?"

"No," said the Grinch, "and what's more, I don't care." At this point stepped beside the Lorax and continued on his way, not letting the bossy little creature continue his lecture. A moment later, he felt something hitch on the pine tree, not enough to stop it, but enough to change the weight. He turned around and saw the Lorax sitting on the pine tree, glaring at the Grinch with intense distaste.

"Are you going to stay there?"

"With my tree? Yes, I am."

"Suit yourself," said the Grinch, and he continued down the mountain, Max at his side.


The entire trip down the mountain, the Grinch was treated to a lecture about the life cycle of the pine tree, the optimal growing conditions of the pine tree, the pine tree's contributions to the local ecosystems, a list of all creatures in the area that depended on the pine tree for their continued survival, and an explanation of what would happen to the mountain should the pine tree go extinct in that area. All of this, the Grinch pretended to ignore, though he couldn't completely tune it out. By the time he made it to Cindy Lou's house, his nerves were raw.

When he got to the door, he started to knock. But the Lorax switched his lecture from pine trees to maple trees, another indigenous tree, and when he realized the Lorax was planning on doing this about every tree in the area, something inside the Grinch snapped. He dropped the tree and turned to Max, who was still holding the hatchet. "Drop it," he snapped, and Max, not used to hearing this tone in his master's voice, quickly obeyed, terrified he had gone back to his old ways. The Grinch picked up the hatchet and turned to the Lorax. "Say one. More. Word. About the trees, and see what happens."

The Lorax narrowed his eyes. "Would you really cut me down as callously as you did this tree?"

"You know, back there where we first met I wouldn't have thought so either," said the Grinch with a half-crazed chuckle, "but now here I am holding this hatchet, so let's see if you want to take the risk."

The door opened a crack. Cindy Lou was standing in the doorway, watching cautiously. "Uh... hello, Mr. Grinch," she said.

The Grinch turned around, forcing a smile through his yellow teeth. "Cindy Lou! How nice to see you! Please, call your mother, I've brought you something."

Cindy Lou's eyes widened. "Is that a Christmas tree?"

"It's not, yet, but it will be once you bring it inside, string some lights on it, and hang up the ornaments."

"Mommy's not home," said Cindy Lou. "She's at the school with my brothers and sister for the Christmas show."

"Oh? Then who's watching you?"

"Euchariah is babysitting today."

"Ah. Well, at least let me bring this inside."

"Okay." The Grinch gave the tree a sudden yank, causing the Lorax to fall off and into the snow. He sputtered indignantly, but the Grinch had dragged the tree inside and whistled for Max to come in before the Lorax could get back on his feet. The Grinch was just about to slam the door on the annoying little moss ball before he dove between the door and the doorframe, rolled once, and ended up on his feet.

"You're just going to drag it inside, then?" the Lorax demanded.

The Grinch pinched the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes, and let out a weary sigh.

Just then, Euchariah entered the living room, carrying two mugs of hot chocolate. "The hot chocolate is ready, Cindy Lou, just promise me you'll be careful because if you burn your mouth again your mother is gonna-" he stopped, seeing the tree, the Grinch, and the Lorax all in the entryway with snow all over the foyer. "Oh. Hello, Grinch. Hello, Lorax."

"You know this pest?" the Grinch opened one eye.

"Yes, I'm aware of him." Euchariah handed one mug of hot chocolate to Cindy Lou, who took it over to the fireplace and sat down on the hearth. Then he handed the other one to the Lorax. "Here. Drink this."

The Lorax sniffed it curiously.

"It's made with steamed milk, not hot water. Careful not to burn your tongue."

The Lorax took a quick sip. When he lowered the mug, there was hot chocolate still in his mustache. He put the mug down and brushed his mustache with his hands, trying to groom the liquid out.

"That should keep him busy for a few minutes," said Euchariah. "Come over here, I'll tell you what we learned in school."

Euchariah led the Grinch over to the empty spot in the living room where the family Christmas tree had been until the night before, and where boxes of decorations and unopened Christmas presents were stacked. "Well. Actually, we don't know what the Lorax is or where he came from. All we do know is how protective he is of the trees. So years and years ago, the local Christmas tree farmer set up a cycling system where he would grow enough trees for each season, and they would be replenished every year. That way we wouldn't wear out the area's natural resources. He's still not crazy about cutting down trees, but he appreciates our steps towards sustainability and he hasn't bothered us in years."

"He's bothering me now," said the Grinch.

"Well, you cut down a wild tree."

"A wild tree?"

"One growing all on its own up on Mount Crumpit," Euchariah explained. "He doesn't like that, so he's come to tell you to stop."

"That's right!" said the Lorax, who had at some point gotten into the Christmas lights and now had them strung around his round body. "I'm here to keep you from cutting down all the trees on the mountain!"

"I'm not going to cut them all down!" said the Grinch, thoroughly exasperated. "I cut down one tree."

"That's how it starts!" The Lorax began trying to squirm out of the tangle of lights, but only succeeded in wrapping them around him even more. "You cut down one tree. Then you need one more. Then suddenly you've got your whole family out here with a Super-Axe-Hacker and I have to send the wildlife away to greener pastures! But there won't be any greener pastures if this keeps happening everywhere I go!"

"Well, first off, I don't have a family," said the Grinch. "I had a mother. She's dead now. And second, I don't care about your trees. So why don't you just go back where you came from and leave me be?"

"You hack down one tree to drag inside and you expect me to believe you mean me no harm, and I'm just going to turn my back to you while whistling and leave you to do whatever you like?"

"I mean, you don't have to whistle if you don't want to."

"Excuse me," said Euchariah. "If I may offer a solution?"

"Please!" said both the Grinch and the Lorax, in equal frustration.

"Mr. Lorax, I can assure you that the Grinch truly means you no harm. I suggest if you approach him in a less antagonistic manner, he might be more amicable towards you, and allow you to follow him around for a few days so you can see that your forest is not going to be harmed. Mr. Grinch, if you would turn down your aggression just a skosh, you would see that the Lorax means you no harm either, and all he wants is to see that you aren't a threat."

The Grinch took a long, deep breath, and let it out through his mouth. "All right." He turned to the Lorax and said, through a forced smile, "Lorax. I understand that you care very much for your trees, and I apologize for cutting this one down without thought to how it would affect you, but I really didn't know that you would be so upset over it. Or that you exist. Though I can't restore the tree I cut down, I hereby promise not to do that again. You have my word."

The Lorax looked up at the Grinch through the tangle of Christmas lights, studying his face carefully.

"Come with me back to my cave," said the Grinch. "See that all I want to do is sit quietly and live my life."

The Lorax pulled the Christmas lights down and tried to step out of them, but only got his legs tangled up. He fell down on his side and grunted.

"Then you can come here for Christmas dinner," said Cindy Lou.

"Cindy Lou!" said the Grinch through gritted teeth.

"Why not? It's a time for everyone to come together. He can come and sing and eat with us!"

"Wonderful," said the Grinch. "Now I hate you, too."

"No, you don't," said Cindy Lou.

"No, I don't," agreed the Grinch.

"I think that's a fine idea," said the Lorax. "I wouldn't mind seeing this Christmas thing you get so excited about around these parts."

"Well, then," said the Grinch as sarcastically as he dared, "I would be delighted to have you join me in my cave until Christmas. You can share Max's bed if you like."

"Max?" said the Lorax.

"Max is the dog," said Euchariah, indicating Max, who was currently in front of the fireplace getting his belly rubbed by Cindy Lou.

"I'd better go," said the Grinch. "Mrs. Who doesn't like me hanging around too much when she's not home."

"That's because the last time she let you babysit Cindy Lou you started three separate fires," said Euchariah.

"It was the same fire, just three separate occasions," said the Grinch. "I didn't know that the fireplace screen had holes that a spark could get through."

"Are you serious? They were as big as your eyeball."

"All right, you know what? I don't want to have this conversation again. I'll be back for Christmas dinner. Cindy Lou, you be good. Eat your vegetables or, uh, Santa Claus won't come. I guess."

Cindy Lou's eyes widened. "Whaaaat?"

Euchariah picked up Cindy Lou. "Cindy, don't listen to him, he's being mean," he said as he took her into the kitchen.

"But Santa got my letter, right?"

"I promise you, Santa got your letter."

The Grinch shook his head and chuckled, and then he whistled for Max. Max bounded up to his master, and then the Grinch let himself out, intentionally shutting the door on the Lorax as he left. Unfortunately for him, the Lorax again dove through the door and made it out before it shut behind them.

"I hope those short legs can keep up," said the Grinch as he walked away, hands clasped behind his back. "I'm not waiting up for you."

"Don't worry about me," said the Lorax as he fell into pace right behind the Grinch and next to Max. "I can keep up with the best of them."

"M-hm," said the Grinch.

"So when is this Christmas?"

"Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" The Lorax tilted sideways a bit. "So you're going all the way back up the mountain just to come all the way back down tomorrow morning?"

"That's the plan."

"Wouldn't it be easier to just stay down here overnight?"

"Probably."

"So why don't you?"

"That's not how I roll," said the Grinch, and that was the last either of them said all the way to the top of Mt. Crumpit.


There was no door on the Grinch's cave, so anybody who was up there could just wander straight inside if they felt so inclined. The only real security his home had was that it was so far out of the way, that everybody knew it belonged to him and what his reputation was, and that he didn't have anything worth stealing.

As soon as the Grinch was inside he threw his hatchet to the ground by the wall and went to his couch, which was set up just around the corner so the wind from outside didn't blow on him while he was sitting. It was here that he had his fire pit where he cooked his meals, and because of that the ground was strewn with trash- bones from animals he ate, as well as patches of fur and other inedible parts, pits and stones from fruit, rotten apple cores, as well as trash from the food he obtained from the village below. In addition to garbage were his various half-built and partially designed gadgets that he used to make his life easier, or other people's lives harder. But if you didn't know what each specific device was, it looked like more trash, with bits of metal, wires, springs, cogs, screws, and his tools scattered on the ground against the far wall.

The Lorax kicked an empty can of Who Hash. "Wow," he said. "You live like this?"

The Grinch grunted and reached into his knitting basket. He'd already finished most of his Christmas presents, but he was finishing a soft eyeglasses case for Euchariah so his glasses wouldn't get scratched on his nightstand. Without a word he counted his stitches, and then continued knitting. The Lorax climbed up on the couch beside him and watched.

After sitting in silence for a while, the Lorax said, "I once knew someone who could knit."

"I'd wager you've known a lot of people who could knit," said the Grinch. "It's not a rare skill."

"Well, I hated this guy."

"Mm. I'm sure the feeling was mutual."

"Oh, it was." The Lorax nodded.

"Quelle surprise." The Grinch frowned, and then undid his last three stitches, then started again. This time he remembered to purl in the right place.

"I don't know what right you have to be so hostile," said the Lorax. "It's not like you're completely innocent."

The Grinch slammed his knitting down on his lap, got up, picked up a log, and threw it into the fire pit. He grabbed some of his trash and stuffed it angrily under the log, then pulled out some flint from under the couch and lit the kindling. In a moment, the chamber was filled with warmth and light.

"You see that?" said the Grinch. "I've been using trees for firewood for years and you've never bothered me before. What is your problem?"

"It's not the using, it's the cutting," said the Lorax. "When have you ever cut down a live tree before?"

"Hm." The Grinch didn't answer, because he knew he just cleared out fallen or dying trees for his wood. But then that thought sparked a new one and he said, "But doesn't that prove I'm not going to clear cut the mountain? I've been using bad trees for fire and letting the good ones grow! I've been on this mountain for years and this is the first time I've cut down a strong, healthy tree."

"I'll admit it sounds good," said the Lorax. "But things change. People change. Forests... well, they change."

"It sounds like you've got quite the tragic backstory," said the Grinch. "Well, I don't want to hear it."

"Good, because you're not going to."

"Fine." The Grinch picked his knitting back up and continued.

It was quiet for a while longer. The chamber was silent except for the crackle of the fire and the clicking of the Grinch's knitting needles. The shadows danced on the wall, making every movement seem more dynamic.

Then, the Grinch said, "Are you going to actually do anything, or just sit there until Christmas?"

"I hadn't thought that far ahead," said the Lorax. "What does one do at a Christmas celebration, anyway?"

The Grinch sighed as he thought. "Lots of things, really," he said. "The most prominent is the giving of gifts."

"Gifts?"

"Yes, it's all about the season of giving," said the Grinch. "Somewhat materialistic, if you ask me, but it makes them happy. You're supposed to give a gift to everyone you care about. That's why I'm knitting. I stockpile scarves, hats, mittens, lap blankets, and so on. Then on Christmas I just come down and everyone who likes me can have one. Then, after they're done making noise, they all hold hands and sing and that's... well, that part is just divine. That's the part, the togetherness and solidarity that's really what Christmas is about. Then, they all go back inside and eat."

"They eat?"

"Yes. They make a big, special feast and... well, it's another way to be together. I guess that's what Christmas really is for, this being together."

"You don't sound so excited."

"I'm just in a bad mood. I actually like it, you know? I mean, not all of it, there are parts I could do without, but... it is nice, I suppose."

The Lorax nodded thoughtfully. Then he climbed off the couch and began to root through the pile of trash closest to it. The Grinch leaned forward sharply and barked, "Hey, don't just-" but then stopped abruptly and leaned back, continuing to knit. If it kept the Lorax away from him, he wasn't going to be so protective of the trash.

Eventually it got late, and the fire went out. Once he could no longer see well enough to knit, the Grinch fetched his gas lantern and lit that. He shined its light around the chamber, but did not see the Lorax. Frowning, the Grinch tried to remember when he had last heard the rustling, but realized he could not recall. He had stopped paying attention to it hours ago, and had just been glad to get the Lorax out of his mind.

Now he used the lantern to find his way through the cave's passages, following one tunnel to the chamber where he kept his bed. He had chosen this chamber for his bedroom because on the wall, some of the rocks had crumbled away letting in rich moonlight. He put out his lantern, for now he could see by the moonlight. Max bounded over to the pillow the Grinch kept by his own bed and immediately curled up to go to sleep. The Grinch settled himself down and soon drifted off as well.


It was three in the morning when the Grinch woke up, fully rested and wide awake within moments. This was unusual, as he was a night owl. He preferred to stay up late and sleep late. But then again, he had fallen asleep relatively early, as he had been tired from dragging a tree down the mountain and then going back up it with little time to rest.

Then the Grinch realized he heard rustling. He listened carefully but couldn't discern exactly what was making the noise. It was either an animal rooting through his trash, or... well, the Lorax rooting through his trash. He glanced over to Max and saw that his dog was lying down on his pillow, but was also awake and looking towards the door curiously.

The Grinch reached under his bed for the large club he kept under there in case trouble decided to trouble him. He lit his lantern and slowly crept down the corridor back to his main lounge. Max trotted beside him, ready to defend the cave for his master.

As he suspected, it was the Lorax, sorting his garbage. The Grinch lowered his club and raised his lantern. "What are you doing?"

"Sorting," said the Lorax.

"I can see that."

"Then why did you ask?"

"I was hoping you would include your motivation, or at least elaborate on your methodology."

"Then you should have asked that instead."

"I'm asking it now, then."

"You're actually not, you're just-" and here the Grinch raised his bat- "okay, okay! I'm sorting the compost from the trash from the recyclables."

"Why?"

"Because it smells like something died in here."

"Many things have died in here," said the Grinch as Max began to sniff the piles. "Why do you care?"

"I care because of what the trash does to the forest. What it does to the rivers. If it gets to be too much, I have to send the animals away. I don't want to do that."

"I don't want that to happen, either," said the Grinch. "I get hungry."

"I'm being serious."

"No, you're being a pest."

"Excuse me?"

"You've been doing nothing but pester, nag, and bother me since you got here and now you're messing with my stuff."

"Did you ever think that I nag because no one ever listens to me! If I tell you that something needs to be done or the forest will be destroyed, do you really expect me to just say something once and then never bother you again, just sit back and hum quietly to myself until the smog is so thick it blots out the sky?"

The Grinch shook his head. "All right, clearly you're projecting about something." He picked up a log and threw it into the fire pit, then kindled and lit it while continuing, "Fortunately for you, I couldn't possibly care less." A moment later the cavern was again filled with firelight. "I'm going to finish wrapping the Christmas presents." And we went over to the pile of mechanical junk alongside the wall.

"I'm going to finish sorting," replied the Lorax coldly.

"Do what you want, I'm just going to mix it up as soon as you're finished."

The Lorax had made a large amount of headway while the Grinch had slept. He had gotten through this year's trash, last year's trash, and was getting into forgotten years at the wall of the cave. He threw a few fishbones into the trash pile.

"Don't let Max get those, he'll choke."

"These have been on the floor for..." the Lorax sniffed the bones, "four years. If he hasn't gotten them by now, he's not going to get them." The Lorax picked up a stained bundle of musty red cloth. "Is this made of natural or synthetic fibers?"

The Grinch glanced up to see what the Lorax was referring to. As soon as he saw it, his eyes widened. Quick as a thunderbolt, the Grinch threw wrapping aside, dove across the room, snatched the fabric, and threw it into the fire. It went up in bright orange flames that illuminated the secret crevices of the room for a moment before they were hidden again in shadows.

"Well," said the Lorax. "That seemed unnecessary."

"It was natural fibers," said the Grinch calmly as he knelt back down by his work.

"That doesn't really matter now, as I needed to know how to sort it for disposal." The Lorax combed some dust out of his moustache. "Why did you do that, anyway?"

"Thought I did that years ago," muttered the Grinch. He was scanning the automatic sock-darner he made for Euchariah's grandmother, Mariah, to make sure it was ready to use out of the box. "It's a long story and it's in the past, and it's also none of your business."

"I'll tell you yours if you tell me mine."

"Hard pass."

The rest of the pre-dawn morning passed in tense silence. The Lorax finished sorting through the Grinch's trash, the Grinch finished his last present and wrapped it, and Max took a nap by the fire. Eventually the fire burned low, and faint rays of sunlight streamed down the corridor to shine on the edge of the cave. When it did, the Grinch stood up and said, "All right, Max, are you ready to pull the wagon?"

Max picked his head up and looked at the Grinch. The Grinch disappeared down the other passageway and came back shortly after, pushing an old, wooden wagon with a pole and a small hoop jutting out of the front. Max obediently got up and crawled into the loop

"You're going to make that tiny animal pull that load?"

"Don't worry about it," said the Grinch as he began to load the wagon with wrapped packages. "This one is much smaller and lighter than my old one, and Max used to be able to pull that one down the mountain. This one is just full of yarn and light metal, and I don't even sit in it."

"You made that poor dog pull a wagon with you in it?"

"Yes, stand there and judge me, that's an endearing trait."

The Lorax went up to Max and checked the loop. Max licked the Lorax's face.

"Come on, Max, let's go."

It was a long walk back down the mountain, just as long as yesterday. This time it was quiet, with the only sound being the early morning birds and the crunch of powdery snow as eight feet traipsed down to Whoville below. By the time the Grinch made it to town, the Whos were already gathering around the giant tree in town square.

"Merry Christmas!" called a friendly voice. The Grinch looked around and spotted Josiah, Euchariah's grandfather, waving to him. Josiah was holding Euchariah's hand as they made their way over.

"Merry Christmas," said the Grinch.

"Euchariah told me you had a guest last night," said Josiah.

"Yes."

"Are you getting along?" asked Euchariah.

"No."

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that."

The Grinch reached into the wagon and pulled out two wrapped packages. He checked the pattern of the wrapping paper, and then handed one to Josiah and one to Euchariah. "For you, and for you. Merry Christmas."

Euchariah eagerly tore the paper off of his present to see the eyeglasses case. "Oh, wow! Thank you!" He wrapped his arms around the Grinch's waist. The Grinch didn't hug back, but he gave the who boy an affectionate pat on the head.

Josiah opened his: an automatic window-washer with a hand that could reach all the way up to the vaulted ceiling, and compact back into a tiny box. "Oh, how did you know?" asked Josiah with a chuckle. He knew that he had been complaining about that window more than he ought to.

"Just a hunch. If you'll excuse me," said the Grinch. "I need to find the butcher. He said he was saving something for me. You can throw the wrapping paper back in the wagon, I'll use it as kindling." He was out of earshot before anyone could respond.

Euchariah sat down and began scratching Max behind both ears. Josiah moved on to greet other friends, leaving Euchariah alone with the Lorax. For a while he was quiet, thinking to himself the many questions he wanted to ask and imagining the answers he was likely to get. In the end, he decided on asking, "So how was your night?"

"Productive," replied the Lorax. "I made some serious headway cleaning out the Grinch's cave."

"Oh, he's going to hate that."

"He seems to hate a lot of things."

"Not as many things as he used to," said Euchariah. "He is grouchy, and he used to be extremely mean, but a few years ago he mellowed out considerably."

"How come?"

Max rolled over onto his back so Euchariah could rub his belly. Euchariah focused on that for a few long seconds before saying, "I don't think he'd like me to tell you. It's sort of an unspoken agreement between him and us that we don't bring it up again."

"Was it tree-related?"

"Only tangentially in that trees were involved in some capacity, but it's not anything close to what you're thinking."

"And you're sure it's not something he'd let me know about?"

"Not even a little." The voice was stern and projected loudly without shouting from behind Euchariah and the Lorax, both of whom jumped from the startle. The Grinch was standing behind them holding a thick bone from the leg of an umbus.

"That was fast," said Euchariah.

"He was already coming for me," said the Grinch. He turned to the Lorax. "And he's right. We don't talk about it."

"Oh, come on," said the Lorax, looking up at the Grinch as he began to rub Max's belly. "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

The Grinch picked up the Lorax by the armpits and placed him standing on the ground three feet from Max. "You do not touch my dog."

Max whined, realizing that his belly rubbing had gone down by half.

"I think that should be up to the dog," said the Lorax.

"He has a point," said Euchariah. "You shouldn't let your tiff with him negatively affect Max." He gave Max an extra good rub to compensate. "I had hoped you two would be getting along by now, but I guess that was foolish of me."

"What? You think I can't get along with people?"

"You're not very good at it," admitted Euchariah.

"I have friends," said the Grinch. "There's…"

"You only talk to Cindy's family because they're friends with my family. And you only talk to my family because of me. And you only talk to me because I like your dog."

"That's not true," said the Grinch. "I talk to you because I respect you."

Euchariah looked up curiously. "Oh?"

"Of course I do. You're the only one who ever stood up to every spook in my paraphernalia wagon and you did it to protect your village. I might not have been happy about it back then, but I respected you then and I respect you now."

Euchariah nodded solemnly. "I respect you, too."

"Why?"

"Because it can't be easy to come down here like nothing ever happened even when you know we all know what happened." Euchariah gave Max one more good pet before standing up. "It looks like everybody's gathering now. Do you want to help your guest find his place?"

"Fine," said the Grinch. For the moment all of the bluster had been taken out of him. He went over to the Lorax, scooped him up, and tucked him under his arm.

"Hey!" The Lorax began squirming immediately. "Put me down! Where are you taking me?"

The Grinch pointed to the other side of town square. "Over yonder," he replied. He approached Cindy Lou from yesterday, who was standing in between her mother and Jojo, the smallest Who of all. He set the Lorax down between them. "You're small," he said, "so if you want to hold hands you should stand with these two."

"Hi again," said Cindy Lou.

Jojo looked the Lorax up and down. "I don't know this guy," he said.

"That's fine," said the Grinch. "Just make sure he knows the words. I'm going to stand over there," he added, now talking to the Lorax. "Come find me when you're tired of this."

So it was that all the Whos began singing together in their one collective, harmonious voice, lifting their praise of the season high where it echoed in the mountaintops, reaching all the way to the depths of the Grinch's cave atop Mount Crumpit where he could never escape it. Now he stood, not joining hands in the circle but standing behind them, arms crossed, leaning against the streetlamp, watching and singing with a calm contentedness. It felt good to be here and for the duration of the song he forgot his troubles, forgot his annoyance, and forgot the Lorax, and all he felt was the joy of the Christmas season.

When the song ended, his mood dropped slightly but not nearly where it had been that morning. Gone was his irritability and stubbornness, replaced with a strange sort of serenity he had not felt in a long time. Some of the Whos went home. Others stayed and mingled. A great many of them went to prepare the Christmas feast. The Grinch went off on his own, not out of the village, but away from people. He was thinking. For the first time, he was thinking about his problem from the other point of view.

The Grinch didn't find the Lorax until they both were sat together at the feast table in the late afternoon. The table was piled to heaven with savory and scrumptious foods, taking up the entirety of the Who Dining Hall, and as soon as the roast beast was carved the feast could begin. One by one the plates began making their way down the long table.

"Long day," said the Lorax.

The Grinch grunted. A plate of roast beast was passed to him. He handed it to the Lorax and said, "Pass it down."

"I talked to some of the Whos about you," said the Lorax.

"What did they tell you? Pass it down."

"Nothing but good things about you. You're clever. You're handy. You're apparently good at carving roast beast."

"Mm. That sounds like them."

"Are they right?"

"They're forgiving," said the Grinch. "Pass it down."

"None of them would tell me what it is that you did, though."

"You really want to know?"

"Yes."

The Grinch looked at the Lorax out of the corner of his eyes, his chin tilted slightly up in a position of disapproval. "Well, I can tell you one thing," said the Grinch.

"What's that?"

"The answer to your question…" The Grinch leaned in closely and whispered, "is none of your business."

The Lorax snorted.

The Grinch handed yet another plate to the Lorax. "This one's yours," he said.

The Lorax looked to his left to see that the Who next to him did indeed have his own plate. "Ah. Very good."

The chair across from the Lorax had looked empty this whole time. However, at that moment a Who woman came up to the chair carrying an unabridged dictionary. She pulled out the chair and set it down, and the Who who had been sitting there climbed up on top so that now his head was over the top. "Thank you," he said before she left, wishing a merry Christmas. It was Jojo, whose short stature had prevented him from seeing above the table. Then he waved at the Lorax. "Hey, Lorax!"

"Hello," said the Lorax, and he was smiling.

"I gave Mom the bucket. She's going to jar it and save it for something special."

"I'm glad to hear it."

The Grinch frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Maple syrup," said Jojo. "The Lorax taught me a better way to get to it. He saw me arguing with a tree just outside town."

"So it's okay to take the syrup, then," said the Grinch dryly, not quite sarcastic but not wholly genuine.

"It's okay to take," said the Lorax. "That's what they're there for. It's just not okay to take everything, to take more than you need."

"The syrup comes back," said the Grinch. "But when you cut down the tree… it stays cut down."

"They take so long to grow," said the Lorax. "If you can't replace them fast enough…"

The Grinch nodded. He had nothing else to say. Instead the Grinch ate dinner silently, lost in his own thoughts. Now and again is mind surfaced and he caught snippets of the conversation around him, and it made him feel good about things. But then he went back to thinking about himself, and he felt bad again.

Before he knew it the dinner was breaking up. He bid goodbye to his friends and then began his long hike back up the mountains. The Lorax came with him, quiet as well, but he seemed more interested in the sights and sounds of the walk: the birds, the snow, and the fading sunlight. Max bounded along happily, unaware of any tension whatsoever.

When the got to the cave, the Grinch said, "I'm going to take care of something," before he disappeared into the labyrinthine maze of the mountain's caverns. He didn't listen for any response from the Lorax.

Night came. The moon rose high in the sky, basking the mountains and the valley below in soft light, the scattered stars above lending their assistance in creating a beautiful night.

The Grinch emerged from the cave at one in the morning, carrying a small tray with ten little pots of dirt on it. He wasn't exactly looking for the Lorax but he saw him anyway, sitting on the edge of a steep drop near the mouth of the cave. He went up and stood behind him, and for a while they both looked out into the night.

"Lovely night, isn't it?" said the Lorax at last.

"It is," said the Grinch. Then he cleared his throat. "Uh, look. I know it's probably a bad gesture, but… Here." And he put the tray down.

The Lorax looked at the tray, then up at the Grinch quizzically.

"That's left over from this past year. I grow vegetables that the Whos don't like because that's the only way I can get them. But those aren't vegetables. They're fir trees."

"Fir trees?"

"Well, they're seeds from the pine cones out here. See? Ten trees. I figure five of them will never sprout, and three more of them won't grow very much before they wither away, but… that still leaves two. So I'll have planted twice as many trees as I cut down. If these don't take, I'll try again."

"You'll try. That's it. That's all I wanted."

The Grinch looked from the pots to the Lorax and then back again. "That's all it takes? Well if I had known that, then I would have just done that right away! Why didn't you just tell me to?"

"Why didn't you think of it on your own?! Don't you think that's something you should be responsible for?"

The Grinch squeezed his eyes shut, took a long, deep breath, and then opened them again. "You're right. I should have. And… all right, I'm sorry. Are you happy? I apologized. That's more than the Whos got."

"Wait, you never apologized?"

"I brought the stuff back. They took it as an apology."

"If you did something, you should apologize."

The Grinch sat down next to the Lorax, his legs dangling over the edge of the cliff. "I know. But that would mean bringing it up again. I don't want to do that if I don't have to."

"Still… you really should apologize."

"You don't even know what I did."

The Lorax sighed. "I'd like to apologize to you, too," he said. "I don't think I was completely wrong, but I may have been more aggressive than I needed to be."

The Grinch snorted but said nothing.

"I just didn't want to have to leave again."

"Why would you have to leave?"

"Because in a place where there are no trees, and no animals… there's no Lorax."

The Grinch looked over the mountainside. All down it was dotted, and in some places thick, with trees. Though it was too dark to see any animals, he knew that the trees were providing shelter and sustenance to thousands of them below.

"I was in a place like that, a long, long time ago. And he didn't listen to me, either."

"Who's 'he?'"

"The one who made the trees go away. He didn't realize what he was doing until the last one fell. But by then it was too late."

The Grinch gave a slight grunt. "Bet he never apologized, either."

"I know he was sorry," said the Lorax. "I know he regretted what he did until the day he died. But that doesn't bring them back."

"Well, you don't have to worry," said the Grinch. "Not as long as I'm here. And when I'm gone, there are some good kids down there who will be good adults. I know they'll keep the tradition of not clearcutting the mountain alive."

"They will," said the Lorax. With that, he stood up. "Thank you. So now I shall say goodbye."

"Goodbye? Wait, I thought you weren't leaving."

"I'm not. But I'm not always here, exactly. I watch over the trees on the mountains, but I only come out if I'm needed. And right now, I'm not needed. So by the time you wake up tomorrow, I'll be back where I was before you cut down the tree."

"Well, then… I guess this is goodbye." The Grinch offered his hand, which the Lorax shook. "Look, if you ever want to, I don't know, come out and sing at Christmas, or… I don't know, hang out or whatever, don't be a stranger."

The Lorax laughed. "I won't. Maybe I'll pop up next year."

"Not because of me."

"No. Goodbye, Grinch. Take care of the trees."

"Take care of yourself." The Grinch picked up his tray and went back inside.

The Grinch didn't see the Lorax go. Instead he went to bed like normal. In the morning when he woke up, the Lorax was not in his cave, nor was he outside. He was back as he had been before, watching over unseen. On a clear day like this he could see all the way past the mountains to the fields beyond, where the ground evened out. Where the smog was lifting. Where, maybe someday, trees might still grow again.

But for now, he had these. And it had to be enough. And, for the first time, maybe it actually was.