Season 1, Episode 5 - The Boxtops XVLII - "The Secret Origin of Hibiscus Reed, Answer Option A"
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Acushnet, a little over three years ago. Still the second-largest city in New England, it had once been the city, back when there wasn’t a New England, just warring townships and foreign invaders. Just as today, the Reeds ruled the city; they were the primary movers and shakers of the Presidential Restoration that defeated the New Yorker condottiero that controlled Quinsigamond; the Reed patriarch, Arthur, became President of the new country in the aftermath.
He re-established Narragansett, making it the new capital, and the warring townships became a modern nation-state. Despite the democratic pretenses of the Restoration, Arthur no doubt planned on ruling for life - several small-scale rebellions rose in response to this. Arthur put them all down, but his rule for life only lasted five years, ended by the bullet of a disgruntled former rebel.
Controlling the ports and industries of both Acushnet and Narragansett - the Reeds would’ve been set for all time. Instead, their own hubris did them in, as both Narragansett and New England slid into an oligarchy, forcing the Reeds to share with the other major players from the Restoration. Narragansett soon outshone Acushnet, and the rest of the oligarchy continually threatened to outshine the Reeds. This no doubt contributed to the bitter feeling currently among the family-
Reed yawned. History was so boring. Content that the above writing would be good enough to submit to her family’s tutor, she folded up the papers into an interior pocket of her jacket along with the pencil. With that settled, she cracked her neck and took a long look off the concrete platform she currently sat on, Acushnet’s largest radio tower rising above her.
The hill she spent her childhood summer days lazing around upon wasn’t exactly large, but it was the largest in Acushnet, and that was good enough for Reed. With a yawn, her eyes scanned the edge of the city in the distance, where the long row of docks met the blue ocean. The powers-that-be named this particular stretch of ocean the Bay of Buzzards. Despite her alleged love of nature, Reed couldn’t explain what a buzzard exactly was - some sort of fly?
But she did like looking at the ocean. Smoke billowed out of several freighters steaming out of the port, destined for ports somewhere else. Somewhere else, now that would be nice. She watched one large ship head out into open ocean, disappearing over the distant horizon. Smaller fishing boats moved at a slow crawl around the bay, bringing back fresh catches. Larger Navy destroyers kept a close watch over all of it; artillery emplacements on the Elizabeth Island chain on the opposite side of the Bay kept a close watch on the destroyers.
Reed frowned. She knew about the Navy because the Reeds controlled the Army and therefore the Navy were their opponents, both in the past and present. But it’s not like Reed really wanted to fight anyone. If only she could hang out on this hill forever, or stow away on an ocean-liner and man the crow’s nest or whatever sailors did.
As with anything else, watching the ocean and ships grew tiring. With nothing else to do, she slowly slid off the concrete platform, arriving in a patch of dirt and weeds. She reached into the other interior pocket of her jacket and pulled out her allegedly prized possession - the Spoons of Viola Reed.
Viola Reed. How Hibiscus Reed hated her. Viola had been dead for over forty years now, killed at age seventeen during the final assault on Quinsigamond at the climax of the Presidential Restoration. Reed wondered what she herself would be like at age seventeen; hopefully it wouldn’t involve throwing her life away like that.
Yet her parents seemed to plan for Reed to exceed her great-aunt’s greatness. Her portrait hung in the dining room of their mansion; Viola was dressed in her finest gown, her painted eyes seeming like they followed Reed wherever she went. To make matters worse, they were similar in appearance, except Viola's portrait had a knowing smile while Reed usually kept a blank expression on her face. By Reed’s age, Viola could do this and could do that, so why couldn’t she? That’s the question that burned in the minds of Reed’s parents.
Reed’s older brother was a prodigy; a family should’ve been content with one prodigy, but the Reeds expected every child to be one. Reed’s younger sister Bramble becoming a kid genius wasn’t exactly a good look for Reed, either. Oh, Reed herself was a star in elementary school, delighting her fellow students and teachers with the sparks of Rddhi that came with each finger snap or forehead tap.
But apparently, she was supposed to be able to do more than that. Reed felt content with her ultimate plan of using her family’s money to travel the world one day, should she ever get around to actually doing that, but the family had different plans. Class 5! That was the goal. Her brother, in his final year at Cambridge Middle, had already achieved that distinction. Bramble, in her final year at Acushnet Elementary, was already Class 3.
And you’re still a Class 1! That was the exclamation hurled upon Reed whenever she failed to show improvement (which was technically every day). Reed wasn’t sure what the big deal was, but because her parents said that it was a big deal, it was a big deal.
Seeking to unlock her innate power or something like that, her parents gave that prized possession - the Spoons of Viola Reed. The relationship between genetics and Rddhi was still unclear, but the Reeds had a history of sound-based powers. Using an odd spoon-based form of hamboning, Viola could create soundwaves just by hitting her body with the spoons. Reed laughed at that story when she first heard it, but when she saw paintings of the ruins of Quinsigamond created by Viola’s part in the assault, she gave the Spoons a second look.
They say a knife is only as good as the one who wields it, though. Standing on that hill, Reed raised a finger and snapped it; red Rddhi sparked through it, alright. But then when she spoonboned a body part - nothing. She tapped the spoons against her chest, against her arms, against her stomach - no sparks, no nothing.
Reed frowned. She wasn’t sure why she expected today to be any different. She wasn’t even sure if she cared or not about her apparent psychic handicap. Nevertheless, she tried again - but they also say the definition of insanity is trying the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.
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She gripped one of the spoons tightly and smacked herself in the face for one final try. That didn’t do anything; no matter the body part, nothing interesting happened. And unlike other body parts, hitting herself in the face actually hurt - so she did it once again for good measure, then cursed, wondering why she did it a second time.
Oh well. Having been up to the radio tower enough times, Reed could tell by the sun’s position that the weekly rerun of Japanimations was about to start on her favorite channel, and it was summer, for crying out loud! She must’ve been the only kid in Acushnet who had a tutor in the summer (well, she knew that she wasn’t. But still!).
Having gone up to the radio tower in the local hill like she usually did, Reed felt that her head seemed clear enough for one day. As she started her descent down the dirt road back to civilization, she suddenly sniffed the air.
Fire. In fact, when she looked over the edge of the hill again, she realized all of Acushnet was on fire. The docks, the factories, the residential areas - the inferno stretched across the entire city. Then the sounds hit her ears - the lone pops of rifles, the rat-tat-tats of machine guns.
Reed took a timid step back, then raced down the dirt road. From how fast she ran, she felt like she flew down it, each step a long leap. Yet it still felt like it took too long. By the time she reached the bottom of the hill, arriving back in a residential neighborhood, she gasped and slipped behind a concrete wall.
Soldiers. Soldiers crawled everywhere in front of her, shooting into buildings, dumping gasoline and setting them ablaze when they were done with their dirty work. A surprise attack? The Naugutuck Valley business with New York had finished over a year ago, but perhaps they ended up conducting a surprise invasion after all. A revolution? Her tutor always emphasized the danger of sophists and revolutionaries, which were one and the same nowadays. Reed had no idea what had happened. What seemed like a picturesque day had turned into a hell on earth.
Reed looked at her finger. She didn’t want to admit it, but she wanted to help everyone. Like it or not, this was her city - she needed to do something. Anything. But all she had was the small spark of Rddhi that came from her fingertips. The best she could do was mildly annoy a soldier before he shot her. Reed wasn’t a particularly big fan of getting shot.
Instead, she decided to regroup at the family mansion. The Acushnet Legion guarded both that port city and Kendall Bridge up in Narragansett; surely they would be fighting to protect the city right now. If Reed could just make it back to the mansion, she would find safety.
Was it cowardice? Or just reality? She couldn’t tell, and didn’t want to stick around and think any longer.
Reed did know the layout of Acushnet, at least. As long as she stuck to back-alleys and the shadows, she could make it out unscathed. With that, she crept along the concrete wall, arriving in a maze of residential areas that shielded her from the soldiers. She heard screams and cries and sudden ignitions of gasoline, all along a backdrop of constant gunfire. Gritting her teeth, she continued on, since her own safety was top priority.
Her route took her upwards, along a rolling crest of apartments that the soldiers hadn’t reached yet. Down below was Acushnet Elementary, its large soccer field crawling with soldiers - and civilians?
Reed gasped once again. Down there, down on that field, the soldiers made captured civilians dig their own graves. The prisoners had already dug up most of the field; Reed almost choked, realizing that the only thing missing now was rifle fire sending civilians down into the grave.
What could she do? What could she really do?
But then she froze. Bramble would’ve been attending a summer camp at the school today. And that means-
She found a small group of figures, their shovels almost taller than their bodies. Reed didn’t have the best eyesight, but there! Bramble was among those captured, her small frame shuffling along as the soldiers herded the prisoners into position. Why wasn’t she using her Rddhi? Why hadn’t she gotten herself out of there?
That’s when Reed realized. Perhaps Bramble had stayed behind to help her comrades. Saving herself was never an option for someone like Bramble. Maybe that’s what Reed was missing in her training. Something like that.
Satori, they call it.
A moment of awakening, of true comprehension, a grand revelation of life.
But that revelation came too late. By the time Reed slipped over a railing and charged down the crest toward the field, her hesitation had already cost her too much. The soldiers had lined all the captured civilians around the mass grave, Bramble among them, and…
One round of gunshots later, down she went, tumbling into her grave.
Reed seized up right as she got to the edge of the field. It had been too late! If only she hadn’t hesitated!
Reed felt a new presence behind her, heavily armed. A soldier, no doubt. She slumped to her knees. What was the point? The revelation came too late.
The soldier grabbed her shoulder and spun her around so she faced him. She gasped in recognition.
The modern-day Isaac glared at her. “This is a complete lie! You just stole Panama’s backstory!”
Back on the couch in Isaac’s apartment, Reed started laughing. This was a genuine laugh, not the ones she usually hid behind a layer of dourness. She held her stomach, unable to contain herself, the laughter uncontrollable.
“When did you figure it out!” she wheezed out before another round of laughter.
“There’s never been an attack on Acushnet, especially not within the past three years!” Isaac exclaimed. He resisted the urge to grab both of her shoulders and shake her. “The whole thing’s a sham!”
Reed managed to settle down, letting out a satisfied sigh. “Once again, Isaac, your astuteness astounds me. But who says the whole thing is a sham?”
Anger slowly drained out of Isaac’s face. He crossed his arms, no doubt upset about Reed’s apparent betrayal of her promised backstory. “I don’t get it.”
“Some parts of that were true,” Reed explained. “Some parts were just metaphors for the truth. It’s up to you to find out.”
Isaac just pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.
Reed gave a shrug. “I prefer my background to be multiple choice, Isaac. And, if you really think about it, I did confirm a lot of things for you.”
Isaac furrowed his brow, sifting through Reed’s story. “So…you’re really a member of the Reed family?”
Reed tilted her head. “I mean, we have the same last name, Isaac. Kind of obvious when you think about it.”
Isaac just groaned. “That’s enough backstory for one day. I want to say I appreciate getting a glimpse at your history, but once again, your obtuseness astounds me.”
He picked up the remote off his coffee table. “Let’s just watch some television.”