Outcast

Part 7

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Jason did not come back to consciousness easily. He felt the dark oblivion trying to keep him in its embrace... but at the same time he felt the weight, burning, aches, pains, and all other inconvenient sensations that usually accompanied being alive and in discomfort. With effort to rival that of any workhorse Pokémon he could recall putting forth in recent memory, he clawed his way back up into the light of the world around him.

And light there was. In abundance, in fact. Gone were the rain clouds that had overshadowed Tangelo Island at the behest of the enraged Gyarados. Instead, the sky had nary a cloud to be seen... only the burning tropical sun to which Jason was already well-accustomed.

A wave of water washed over him, causing him to sit up suddenly and splutter fluid and sand from his mouth and lips. He groaned and coughed violently for several moments; he could feel the fluttering in his lungs that informed him he had, at some point during the ordeal, unintentionally breathed in water.

It was only once his coughing had calmed down that he realized he was lying on a sandbar, and that prompted the revival of his curiosity. Wait... where am I?

He looked around. Wherever this was, it wasn’t a place he recognized – and it seemed it was a place human civilization had decided to ignore. Despite the perfect beach sprawled before him, there wasn’t another soul in view, nor were there ships on the horizon. To his right, there was a gathering of Wingulls with a couple of Pelippers interspersed with them. Just beyond that, there appeared to be a small family consisting of an Azumarill and a Marill, with a baby Azurill bouncing happily on the ball of its own tail – a habit consistent with infant Azurills that had yet to learn how to operate their stubby legs.

Behind him was a large rock face. It wasn’t exactly sheer, but it would have been nearly impossible for Jason to attempt to scale it. Even if he’d been willing, he was no professional in the business... actually, save for ascending a few palm trees on the beaches of Tangelo Island, he had no experience whatsoever in climbing. The face was in a semicircular shape; it seemed Jason had landed on a sea-level sandbar to an island whose primary landmass was some distance above. He knew that this alone was not evidence that humanity did not exist here, but architects of late had taken to building homes and structures close to faces such as these – and it was an irresistible locale for a lighthouse, if shipping routes were to take anybody here.

But none were present, at least that he could see.

And to his left...

He coughed hard and scrambled back when he saw what was there.

Gyarados...

The serpentine creature had its head perched on the sand just beyond reach of the tide, leaving its body just far enough in the shallows that it could retreat if need be. It was a luxury that few other waterborne Pokémon enjoyed, being able to transfer at will from land to water and back again.

And it was staring directly at him.

But it had evidently offered no reaction to him waking, nor of him recoiling. Instead, it simply lay there and looked at him with eyes that did not blink. Its long face gave no expression that Jason could discern, but gone from its gaze was the strange look that had been the prelude to its rampage.

Jason got to his feet, thinking to stay out of its reach... only to realize that such an idea was surely a stupid one on his part. I did want him to learn special attacks so he could go at an opponent from a distance, after all... Then he frowned as he wiped his sand-crusted lips on his arm. As crazy as he was acting, you’d think he’d want to attack me. Obviously he knows how. So what’s he waiting for?

If it could hear his thoughts, it deigned not to supply an answer.

He coughed again and spit up seawater. He groaned at the awful sensation. His lungs were burning worse than his skin underneath the Orange Islands sun, from which there was no escape here. He stomped a foot in frustration, looking back at the Gyarados in the angriest glower he could muster. “This is all your fault,” he grumbled.

It didn’t answer. Didn’t even twitch.

He felt an incredulous laugh bubble up and spill out. “What, you’ve got nothing? Not going to attack me? C’mon, what’re you waiting for?”

But no glow was forthcoming from its mouth, and although its fangs were perpetually exposed, it showed absolutely no inclination to use them. Jason staggered forward. “C’mon, let’s have it. You didn’t really leave anything behind for me anyway... what did you do to my home? My family? My friends? All for a little temper tantrum?!”

Feeling emboldened, he kicked a clump of sand at the Gyarados. “What did you do it for?!”

A blast of air blew from its nostrils. Jason shouted and jumped back, certain that it had decided enough was enough – but still, no attack, nor anything else that could be considered a real response, issued from the sea serpent. Yet there was no mistaking where its gaze was aimed; there was no Pokémon and no point of interest directly behind Jason, so the only thing it could logically be looking at was him.

Jason looked around, trying to find anything to focus on other than the creature that insisted on watching him. “Great,” he muttered. “This is just... just perfect.”

He slumped down to the ground and let his head fall into his hands. “How did I even wind up here? I don’t even know where I am.”

Another rush of air emitted from the Gyarados’ nostril slits. It raised its head from the ground a few inches and let out a low growl; the noise echoed against the rock face. Jason sighed and forced himself to look back at the Pokémon. He scowled cock-eyed at it. “What do you want, anyway? You keeping an eye on me so when I die, you can have lunch?” He gestured up at the sun. “Shouldn’t be too long, I’m cooking as it is.”

It growled again... and then it turned around.

He got to his feet suddenly. “Hey, leaving so soon? Really classy. Just leave me out here to rot in the sunlight.”

The Gyarados shifted its head back in Jason’s direction, just far enough so that it could glance at him sidelong. It stared at him like that for a long moment, then quickly tilted his head back and upward... almost as if to indicate that he should...

Climb on?

Jason stifled a laugh. “You’re kidding. You want me to ride you. Yeah, right. You know what you are? You’re a wild Pokémon. I’d be crazy to ride you.”

But you rode him already, didn’t you? spoke a voice in Jason’s mind. You must have done it, to get all the way here. And somehow, miraculously, you made it to dry land, out here in the middle of all the open water. You end up on dry land and you’re standing here cursing your own Gyarados for keeping you from drowning.

Jason frowned. Until that moment, he hadn’t consciously made the connection. That’s right. I didn’t drown, when by rights I should have. Maybe I washed up on the shore by myself... but that doesn’t explain what Gyarados was doing here when I woke up. They’re predators but if he was that interested in rejoining the wild, he wouldn’t have stuck around.

His expression shifted. “What’s going on with you?” he asked. “You should be out in the water now. You’re just hovering around here. I’m not that interesting.”

Having no means to express its reasoning... and perhaps lacking the faculties to fully comprehend what Jason was saying... all it seemed to care about at the moment was Jason wasn’t doing as he was being instructed. It growled again and gave him another invitational tilt of the head.

Jason crossed his arms. “And just exactly where is it you have in mind to go? You can’t be thinking about going back home... they’d put you down. Or worse. So you’re gonna run. And you’re thinking you’ll just take me with you, just like that.”

The tinny voice in the back of his mind spoke up once more. But you can’t really go home, either, can you? This is your Pokémon, the one you wanted, the one you were paying for... and he’s destroyed everything your family had. Your father doesn’t have the cash to rebuild. And what about the people who got hurt? Workman’s comp. Your family will go bankrupt, and where will you be? There’s no inheriting the company now. There’s no company, period. It’s all finished.

“Shut up,” he whispered to the voice.

You can tell me to shut up, but it’s the truth. You’ve got nothing to go home to. And what about this? You wanted Gyarados to know attacks like Earthquake and Hyper Beam. It’s because of you he knew what he needed to know to destroy the whole place. It’s ultimately your fault.

“No,” he whispered. “It’s not my fault...”

Oh, yes, it is. Your Gyarados, your responsibility. You go home now and you’ll have to look your parents in the eye and tell them you’re the one that made it happen. You know what’ll happen, too. Your dad will spend the rest of his life disappointed in you. Danny will spend the rest of his life blaming you. And your mom? She’ll be the most devastated of all of them. Her heart will be broken. She’s the one who said you didn’t need a Gyarados to get what you wanted out of a Pokémon, but no... you had to have this one.

Jason clamped his hands over his ears and clenched his eyes shut. Running away from it won’t make everything better!

The voice wouldn’t be denied. “Running away”? What would you rather do, go back there and spend the rest of your life being the reason your family and their business failed? Definitely the way to go. Until one day you wake up wishing you had just run away in the first place. So do yourself a favor – start now.

He rubbed his eyes. There were flaws in the arguments the voice posed... but at the same time, it had already argued any point he had to make. Going back home would most likely mean spending his life trying to get out from under an incredible umbrella of debt. Debt, and stigma. It speared through his mind with all the force of a lightning bolt, a vision of what the future would look like in the flash of an instant – the name “Creight” would become taboo... symbolic of the overconfidence of people who thought they could tame and train Pokémon exactly the way trainers needed them to be. It would be synonymous with the arrogance of presuming one didn’t need any security precautions against the Pokémon being trained – not to mention the presumption of building a castle on quicksand.

If I go home, I’ve got nothing... except a family that’ll hate me forever.

If I run, I’ve still got nothing... except a Pokémon who hurt everyone I know. And me, too.

He wasn’t sure he could make the choice.

He looked back at the Gyarados once more, who was still patiently waiting on Jason. The teen shook his head. There was no knowing exactly where the creature had in mind to take him. Maybe it was insane enough to head back to Tangelo Island. Maybe it wanted to strike out on the open water. Maybe Jason’s sarcasm had been right on, and it was simply waiting to make a snack of him.

There was no knowing where it wanted to go.

Jason didn’t need to make a choice concerning destination. Really, anywhere was better than here.

The teen sighed, and approached the serpentine Pokémon. Its segmented body offered him surprisingly easy purchase on its back, and its fins gave him natural handles on which to anchor himself. He leaned down, his body flush against Gyarados’ back. “This... is gonna be really weird.”

The Pokémon only growled in answer, and began to push away from the shore.

As they headed for the open water, Jason abruptly recalled something he had learned in school. The word “outcast”. It had applied to those kids that didn’t really fit in with any particular group – or niche, as his teachers liked to call them – and didn’t have that many friends, if any at all. Jason had never really taken the word into consideration unless he had to deal with synonyms.

Looking up synonyms for that word for his language class was what had occasioned him to find the word “exile”. Its definition had sounded a lot more severe than “outcast”. He’d paid it little mind since, having no real context that would help his own understanding of it.

Think I’m a little closer to that definition now.

He was on the run. He couldn’t go home. And he had nothing to his name except the clothes he wore and the Gyarados.

No, he thought. Not just the Gyarados. My Gyarados.

Astride the very Pokémon that had ruined his life...

Jason Creight rode on.

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End of Outcast

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© Matt Morwell, 2011