Yesterday, I picked a few cherries so my first plan for the morning was to find some sort of market in which I could sell them, and begin to earn bells. I would use this chance to form a camaraderie with the local shopkeepers, and not only earn deals for myself but smoothen the blows that were soon to come when I implement radical changes upon their strategies. But first, Isabelle called me to the town hall to explain my “duties as Mayor.” All superfluous of course, as my real duties are enlightening the residents of Eden of the new path. The path that they can either decide to follow or be wiped out.
I hoped that any awkward residue caused by last night’s encounter would be thoroughly lost by this morning and it was. As I sat down behind my desk for the first time, Isabelle stammered out some compliments and then told me of a town permit that I needed to fill out. I need to 1) own a house, 2) gain the approval of my citizens. The first will be more difficult than the second. The economy of Eden seems based around non-industrial goods, something I’m not used to. Therefore, my usual methods of earning will be replaced with, ahem, more rural techniques.
I went to the shop of Timmy Nook, who I assume is young Tom’s son, and I sold him my cherries. With some of the bells I earned back, I bought a shovel. The easiest way to get a glimpse into a man’s character is to watch the way he works. These people will learn to respect me through the manual labor that will be performed today. It seems below my standards, something to be done by cows or goats, this picking cherries and digging dirt, but if I show that I am willing to lower myself to the lifestyles of the plebians, then the plebians will be satisfied.
I also formed what an onlooker might call a “friendship” with young Timmy. I remained extremely amicable with him, even when I found his rates faulty. He is a teenager and stupid, but he’s the only business in town that seems to open before 10 A.M. That must be changed. Metamorphosis is not allowed to “sleep in.” I will use Tommy as an example of what to strive for when it comes to owning a business in Eden.
In my hunt for bells, I also encountered the museum curator Blathers, a lazy owl, with the type of personality that is often revered by the lower-middle class. But since I believe in using “arts” and “culture” as a way to placate the often unstable emotions of a town (and sometime a mob), I began to donate fossils to his museum. This was done without pay, of course, and within the morning, I donated four, from four different prehistoric creatures. The new youth of Eden will be taught the Theory of Evolution in their schools, for as a far as they will be concerned, I am the creator of all they see.
I also started catching bugs, a juvenile, disgusting habit, but one that seems to please the simple-minded Moreau people of Eden. I donated these too to the museum, and used some of the money I later gathered from cherries/seashells to purchase a common bed.
The tree I planted yesterday has grown at an astonishing rate. If the metaphor from its origin holds true, then Eden shall be prosperous. And with prosperity always comes the willingness to relinquish dominance to someone who is far, far more capable.