Exile

Part 4

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The next time Jason regained consciousness, he found himself still wrapped about his Pokémon, which in turn was still moving speedily through the undulating ocean waters. The cloud cover that Jason had been so mesmerized by earlier had broken and given way to a star-clustered night sky. There was no hint that daylight would be forthcoming, indicating to Jason that he hadn’t slept all that long... perhaps a couple hours, at best.

His body felt numb, and it wasn’t difficult for him to figure out why – the open water was cold to begin with, and more so at night, astride a swiftly-moving Pokémon. Gyarados is way more suited to this environment than I am, he thought wryly, as he tried to command his arm to rise up. The effort was met with minimal success.

Wet clothes don’t really help my case any, either. Jason plucked at his hand-me-down white shirt, which by this point was soaked clean through and revealing everything beneath it. Guess this must be why most girls I know don’t wear shirts like this one...

When he raised his head to get a better view of his surroundings, he wasn’t all that surprised to see the ocean still engulfed his entire field of vision. There was nothing he could see but the tossing water and the dome of night stretching over his head. Only a minimal sliver of the moon could be seen tonight. Besides this and the tapestry of stars, all was darkness and solitude.

Which is why I’d rather not be awake... the only way it could get more lonely out here is if I were floating in the water all by myself, feeling like I’m swimming totally without aim. His gaze shifted to the back of his Pokémon’s head. I hope his sense of direction is enough to keep us in a straight line. Be pretty irritating if morning comes and the sun’s in back of us.

Jason was interrupted from his reverie by a bucking motion from Gyarados, followed by an abrupt roar and an equally abrupt reduction in speed. Something had captured the Pokémon’s attention and it was now staring up at the sky. The teen frowned and patted Gyarados’ back. “Hey! What’s the matter, what’s going on?”

But Gyarados made no attempt to give Jason a better idea of what exactly its problem was; it issued short, sharp roars at the apparently empty sky. Jason tried to follow the sea serpent’s line of sight, squinting and straining mightily, but if there was anything up there except the veil of stars, it wasn’t–

No, wait. There. Just at the edge of Jason’s ability to perceive, there was the smallest light in motion across the dark curtain. It’s moving way too fast. That’s not even a star at all. He tried to focus harder, now that he had found what was drawing Gyarados’ attention, but he knew his eyesight could not match that of most Pokémon.

And it became clear to him after a few seconds that it was becoming unnecessary for him to focus so hard on the object – it was growing larger, which could only mean it was getting closer. Now it outshone any other star, and it burned an orange-red mix that could not have belonged to any celestial body Jason had ever seen, even through a telescope. His brow furrowed. What is that?

A sound rang out, a piercing shriek that split the sky and offered counterpoint to Gyarados’ bass roar. Jason resisted the urge to clamp his hands over his ears, too fascinated to let himself miss anything about what was unfolding before him. As the object neared, Jason could now see the definition of wings streaming red ribbons of fire and a rounded body topped by a head with a long, narrow beak. Each feather adorning the bird looked as if it was glowing by its own light, or possibly aflame; fire wreathed the creature but clearly was doing it no harm.

Its objective appeared to be a distant island that, without the light emanating from the immolated creature, had been invisible to him. It banked, giving Jason a clearer view of its underside. Clearly its body was that of a bird, and there could be no denying precisely what bird it was – leaving Jason to widen his eyes in amazement.

It’s... Moltres.

No matter what culture one encountered, one could find a legend or myth surrounding Moltres. Said to be the original master of the flame among all earthly living creatures, it was called a phoenix by some, a winged demon by others, and worshipped by still more. To call it a “Pokémon” seemed almost an injustice; the word had originated as a mash-up of “pocket monsters”, a phrase referring to the convenience of miniaturized capture technology. Jason had heard it argued that referring to Moltres by that word suggested all its majesty could be contained in a pocket – and looking at it now, it was clear to Jason that all the capture technology in the world might not be able to restrain its glory.

But in spite of himself, Jason forced himself to stop staring at the marvel and concentrate on the landmark whose presence had suddenly been made plain. The silhouette had not been much, but what light had been shed on it was just enough for him to make out a jutting tower of land, flattening out at the top. That could be Cinnabar Island, then... but if it is, where’s the settlement? There’s supposed to be a gym there, but I don’t see any evidence of buildings.

Gyarados had stopped roaring by this time and was now content simply to watch the path the blazing Pokémon was carving behind it, a streaming trail of fire and embers that littered the — sky with more sparks than there were stars. Jason patted its side in an attempt to divert its attention. “Hey, c’mon, let’s shift our focus here.”

The Pokémon shifted and turned its head to cast a sidelong glance at him in what he assumed was curiosity. Though it could not communicate verbally, something in its demeanor suggested to Jason that asking it to not stare at the flaming trail was akin to telling someone not to think about pink Rhyhorns. The teen pointed at the general direction in which the phoenix-like creature had flown. “I think I saw an island over there. Let’s head that way, it might be Cinnabar.”

To its credit, Gyarados did as ordered, but its aura of skepticism remained present, and its movement through the water felt more cautious than it had been when the teen had awoken. Jason frowned. “There a hang-up?”

Gyarados glanced back at him again, then in the direction of the island, whose outline was just becoming visible through the night gloom. It let out another roar. The sound was accentuated by the flapping of its facial fins, and Jason could sense a vibration run throughout the Pokémon’s body. His frown deepened. That was a shudder!

Then he looked at the island and it occurred to him what Gyarados might be thinking. Fresh off a defeat and we’re heading to a place where we just saw an infinitely more powerful creature land. I guess I’d be nervous, too, if I thought we were going to run into it.

“We’re not going to, though,” he said aloud, to nobody in particular. He stroked Gyarados’ horn. “I’m not planning on doing something as stupid as battling Moltres. I just need to get to Cinnabar Island so I know I’m heading in the right direction. We’ll be able to reach the Kanto mainland from there, no problem.”

Gyarados appeared to consider this for a moment, then turned back to the water and continued swimming toward the island. It moved no more speedily than before, but at the very least, it was in motion.

The island didn’t seem very hospitable on any side. Jason considered instructing Gyarados to continue its counterclockwise path to the south end, but he had little hope that there would be any sign of humanity there that didn’t exist in the other three cardinal directions.

And I guess it makes sense that I wouldn’t be likely to see people from here, he thought. If Moltres somehow managed to take this island, then I’ll bet it wouldn’t be too friendly toward people.

Jason scowled up at the summit of the mountain. It was a flat top, which lent itself most readily to the mental image of what a volcano should be. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. But I get the real feeling this place isn’t Cinnabar Island. Then he let his eyes follow the land to the south. Stretch of a grassy area, leads into some hills... but probably not worth checking out.

He sighed and slumped against Gyarados’ back. “Don’t think this is the right place,” he said. He pressed the left side of his face against the Pokémon’s scales; they were surprisingly warm.

He let his eyes drift into laziness and they stared off into space. Nothing occupied their attention because there seemed very little to take notice of – nothing but water and sky. The colors thereof seemed remarkably similar, giving Jason a preamble to vertigo, since it was becoming difficult for him to distinguish where one ended and the other began. The only thing that seemed to separate them was the oddest speck of black, almost directly in the center of his cone of vision.

Hang on...

Jason righted his head and squinted at the spot, not entirely sure whether it was real or simply a figment of his imagination. Exhaustion had, for the past several days, played tricks on his mind and created black spots in his vision – but this one was different. This one stayed where he had initially seen it. Perhaps it was a landmass, or perhaps it was a seafaring vessel of some sort.

He aimed a finger in that direction. “Gyarados, take us that way. I think I see something.”

The Pokémon’s response seemed less than enthused. Jason could almost swear he felt Gyarados sigh beneath him before slowly turning to the north and propelling itself away from the island’s shallow waters. The teen leaned forward. “Hey, what’s going on? You tired?”

Gyarados’ answer was to hang its head, then cast a backwards glance at the grassy strip, leading Jason to do the same. And now that the teen was looking at it, it didn’t look like such a bad place to park for the evening. After all, we’ve already been this far, he could hear his conscience telling him. As tired as you might be feeling, it’s nothing compared to what he must be feeling. You haven’t had to haul anybody on your back all over the ocean lately.

Jason looked at the black spot on the northern horizon once more. Maybe it was a ship, maybe it wasn’t. If it was land, it would be there in the morning, after the two had gotten a chance to rest themselves. He could tell Gyarados to go faster and satisfy his own curiosity, but really, riding on the Pokémon’s back through the night to get there didn’t sound like his definition of “fun”, and he knew it couldn’t be Gyarados’, either.

He followed Gyarados’ gaze back to the small grassy field and let out a sigh. “Okay, okay, let’s just camp out over there for the night, then.”

Gyarados’ response was far more immediate; it gave him an instant about-face and flapped its rear fin hard to get them to the dry land. It struck Jason as odd that Gyarados would be willing to do such a thing, given how Spencer had told him it had evidently disliked the land enough to not be on it. And it couldn’t be that I’ll be there, either, because he didn’t want to join me on dry land even though that cottage was barely a hundred yards from water.

Within moments, Gyarados had beached itself; Jason dismounted and paced up from the beach to the tall grass. He turned to his companion, eyebrow raised and pointed out, “You know, they do say to stay out of the tall grass. Pokémon could be there.”

Gyarados snorted, then coiled itself up on the sand next to the grass and appeared to settle itself for sleep. Jason rolled his eyes, a not-so-little part of him wishing he could get ready for bed that easily. Grudgingly, he called over to his Pokémon, “Hey, you know, some of us actually have to work our surroundings to get comfy.”

If Gyarados had heard him, it elected not to offer a response, vocal or otherwise.

The teen glanced around and wiped his hands on his shorts. All he wanted was a patch of grass through which he could easily see Gyarados; it wouldn’t do to have the Pokémon face some poor schmuck of a trainer who thought it was wild. They’d get overwhelmed.

Or, Jason thought, a distinct sense of trepidation now beginning to wash over him, maybe worse – maybe they’ll find out it’s yours. Doesn’t it still have the little tracker device beneath its skin? You know, the one that the electric fence at your “establishment” should have been able to stop? For that matter, where is it, anyway?

Jason shuddered. He didn’t want to think about that possibility for too long – even if it warranted consideration. The tracker was supposed to work short-range, just within the boundaries of Tangelo Island, but that didn’t mean people wouldn’t be out looking for both him and Gyarados. He doubted they would come all the way to Hoenn seeking him, never mind Kanto... but one never knew for sure.

Great thoughts to be thinking when you’re wanting to find sleep, he admonished himself.

He made his way just beyond the beach, but still well within sight of Gyarados, who had already finished making itself comfortable and was relaxed on the sandbar. There was a region of overgrown grass that was so long, it had fallen over under its own weight and created almost the perfect patch to lie down on. Jason decided that this was as good as any other he was liable to find, and he stretched out on the ground.

This is the last night we’re going to have to do this, he silently vowed. No more running around on the lam. Things will be different. We’ll go and meet Professor Oak, and we’ll meet a new life while we’re at it.

It all starts tomorrow.

—

The first thing Jason sensed was that it was daylight out – and not just a time beyond sunrise, but well and truly daylight, the sun pouring down upon him no less relentlessly than the rain of early yesterday. It wasn’t the first time he had awoken since last night, but there was a greater sense of urgency within him now than there had been before, when he had rolled over and groaned at the light’s assault upon his closed eyelids. At first, he wasn’t quite sure what to make of that sense of urgency or why it was making him feel trapped–

Then he heard a loud raspberry, and a splatter of wetness struck his face.

His eyes opened instantly, and he found himself looking up into the face of a white-haired horse whose mane was set afire... a Pokémon he was quite familiar with. A Ponyta.

The creature was standing off to his right side, its legs less than a foot away from him, and it appeared to be sniffing curiously at him. Whatever scent was coming off him, it was enough for the Ponyta to turn to one side and bob its head violently in a loud sneeze.

“Bless you,” Jason mumbled. He was strongly repressing his first instinct, which was to roll away from the Pokémon as quickly as possible; such an action, he knew, would be futile at best and disastrous at worst. When a Ponyta was curious about something, it would stay near the object of interest until its curiosity was satisfied... and its harder-than-diamond hooves would have no difficulty in putting a hole through Jason’s torso.

A roar went up from the beach, which caused the Ponyta to flinch and jump away from Jason. The teen, in turn, took the opportunity to roll away from his sleeping spot and get to his feet. The other creature stood no higher than his chest, even with its head fully upright, and it glanced between Jason and Gyarados – the sea serpent, still positioned on the sandbar, had risen up into a threatening pose not unlike a cobra and was scowling darkly at the Ponyta.

Jason held up a hand to calm Gyarados. “Hey,” he called out, “don’t scare it off, it was just curious!”

But Gyarados wouldn’t be silenced, and a louder roar from deep within its throat caused the Ponyta to scamper off into the brush. The blue-scaled Pokémon croaked, a noise denoting its satisfaction at victory without unneeded battle.

Jason sighed and planted his hands on his hips. “I see you’re a big hit with the locals, there.” Then he gestured to the open water beyond. “Since you’re awake, you feeling ready to get going and find a better life? And so help me if you say that better life can be one without me in it.”

All Gyarados really needed was the gesture to the seas; it turned and snaked back into the shallows, then waited there and looked at Jason expectantly.

One side of Jason’s mouth quirked up in the slightest hint of amusement. All right, so he’s not social, but he’s protective of me, and he’s looking out for my interests, which is a good thing. I’ve heard any number of trainers say if they don’t have badges confirming their accomplishments, their Pokémon will stop listening to them... but it’s probably more about respect than anything else. Also a friendship doesn’t hurt that much.

He strolled out onto the beach and climbed up Gyarados’ waiting back, then gave it a gentle nudge with his heel. Obligingly, it moved out and toward the left, ready to make its way up to the north. As Jason surveyed the horizon, he saw that the dark speck he’d tried to focus on last night was gone; now he could only shrug and assume it had been a vessel, or maybe a large Pokémon treading the waters. No point regretting what might have been.

But off in the hazy distance, he thought he could just barely make out the funnel shape of a volcano rising up over the water. This, at least, gave him hope that what he was seeking was perhaps only a few hours’ distance away. He pointed. “Let’s head up that way.”

A thought occurred to him as Gyarados carried out his instructions. Spencer’s note said Cinnabar Island was just south of the Kanto mainland. I’d be able to see the mainland if this island was Cinnabar, so obviously it isn’t. But this could be Mt. Ember. He looked up at the island they were vacating. Yeah, actually, it should be. I thought there were just a bunch of Fire-Type Pokémon here but if Moltres frequents it, then no wonder it got that name. He shook his head. So much for my geography lessons. Mom and Dad would be ticked.

He wrapped his arms around Gyarados a little more tightly and perched his chin atop its craned neck, content to watch as their destination came to them.

By midday, there was no mistaking where they were headed: most certainly it was Cinnabar Island, confirming Jason’s suspicions of the volcano in the distance behind them. While he anticipated landfall at Cinnabar, he resolved that someday he would return to that island to get a better look at the Pokémon that inhabited it – surely there were more than a single curious Ponyta.

It still took most of the rest of the afternoon to arrive at the island, and before he did, he saw several people he assumed to be Pokémon trainers atop their Pokémon of choice, surfing through the ocean waters just as he was. There was a Lapras here, a Wailmer there... even a Walrein hefted a pair of young children on its back and carried them through the currents. This last struck Jason as especially odd, given the near-tropical climates in the region; a Walrein here might suffer heat stroke, leading Jason to wonder just how much the kids knew about the Pokémon to which they were currently trusting their lives.

Like I’m one to say anything, though, he thought ruefully. He smiled and politely nodded to those that passed by him, not entirely sure if he should say anything to them. None seemed all that interested in challenging him to a battle; but he was approaching the southern beach, where many people were evidently relaxing and enjoying the afternoon sun. Jason thought it likely they were more interested in taking pleasure in the day.

He frowned as it occurred to him there was no way for him to put Gyarados “away”, nor had he any money to change that situation. He rolled his eyes. Not the greatest excuse I’ve ever thought of for not landing and taking a rest... which we ought to do. Gyarados has been going all day without a break and no food that I’ve seen. And I’m getting hungry, too, but a populated island means I can’t really depend on fruit trees.

He sighed, then leaned down. “Hey, let’s park it over by those trees to the right. I’ll get down so you don’t have to carry me. Go get some food, you haven’t eaten all day.”

Gyarados didn’t offer a challenge to Jason’s instructions on direction, but it glanced at Jason curiously when he mentioned food. The teen shrugged. “I can get by, if we get there tonight. We should, Kanto’s just a little ways further north of here. Actually, if we get over to the north side of the island, we should be able to see it.”

Gyarados turned its head back to face the shore, which it approached until it was nearly beached. Jason dismounted and gave his Pokémon a quick pat on its side, then retreated into the treeline for shade. He sighed and leaned against a tree, then stretched and watched Gyarados return to the deeper waters. The last he saw of it was its tail flapping up and then descending into the churning sea.

He sighed. “Now there goes one weird friend,” he muttered.

“Weird, is it?”

Jason jumped, then whirled around. Sitting against a nearby tree was a man he hadn’t spotted before – long, wavy brown hair and a loud tropical shirt were his most defining features. He also wore dark sunglasses that seemed to dangle far too closely to the tip of his nose; Jason could still clearly see his eyes beyond them. The man sat cross-legged and he had a strange smile on his face, suggesting to the teen that perhaps he wasn’t quite all there.

The man tilted his head at Jason in curiosity. “Now, what would make a Gyarados ‘weird’?”

Jason calmed a little at the man’s airy tone, and then shrugged. “What wouldn’t? Humans are weird, even to each other. Relative to us, Pokémon are much more so.”

The other man smirked. “Good answer, my boy. But here’s a brand of ‘weird’ I’m not sure I comprehend – you let your Gyarados roam freely in the seas for food when you can just bring it to the local Pokémon Center? They feed it for free, no need for cannibalism.”

“Yeah, well, this trainer’s traveling with no balls.”

That earned a raised eyebrow from the wavy-haired man. “I’m a fan of riddles, but even this one eludes me. You ride a wild Gyarados?”

“No, he’s tame, just no ball. And...” Jason tugged at his empty pockets. “No cash. So taking Gyarados to a Pokémon Center is a little bit out of the question.”

“And if he should encounter trainers who think he’s wild?”

Jason shrugged again. “Then the trainers are in for it. No pity.”

“I see. And from where do you hail?”

“What does it matter to you?”

“Not that much. I just like asking.” The older man got to his feet. “Well, if you don’t have a place of origin, do you at least have a name?”

“Do you?” Jason returned.

“I do.”

“Then I do, too.”

The elder man inclined his head. Another smirk made its way across his slightly craggy features. “And here I thought I was master of evasion around here. You’re interesting, trainer.”

“Not quite a trainer,” Jason noted. “At least, not yet. I’m headed north. I was pointed toward Professor Oak’s lab in Pallet Town, so I guess someone had in mind I could be useful there.”

“No doubt you have many uses, but is that the destiny you would want for yourself?”

Now Jason was confused. “Which destiny? Going to Pallet Town, or being useful?”

“Yes.”

The teen scowled. “That’s not an answer.”

“Of course it is, just not to the question you think you asked. Which isn’t the question you really asked.”

“...what?” Jason was thoroughly dumbfounded.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out. You kids always do.” He got to his feet and turned, evidently to leave for the nearby beach.

Jason’s frown returned, and he pushed away from the tree to follow the strange man as it occurred to him what the other had meant. “Hold on, are you suggesting going to Pallet Town isn’t a useful thing for me to do?”

“Unless you want to go there to apply as a mailman. But that’s a lifestyle for some people, I suppose.”

The teen narrowed his eyes. “Just what do you know about what I can and can’t do there?”

“Professor Oak already has every kind of research wannabe there. They all scramble for the latest in his assortment of whiz-bang gadgets. Those lab-coated folks he keeps pent up in there all have their noses buried in textbooks. Every trainer from there, you’ll see this unfolding computer device in their hand, like that’s going to unlock the mysteries of the universe for them.”

“What, you’re talking about the PokéDex?”

The other man shuddered and his long hair quivered about his shoulders. “Tell you what, kid, being a trainer is more than just running around collecting data. You want to know what a Pokémon’s all about, you don’t ask some flimsy piece of metal and computer chips. You stick close to him, watch everything he does, and keep a journal to write it down in. That’s how they’ve been doing it for hundreds of years. All the technology and textbooks in the world don’t compare to actual experience.”

“So what’s this got to do with being useless in Pallet Town?”

The older man vigorously tapped his temple with his index finger. “Think, kid. You go there planning to stick around, you’ll be just another one of those useless machines the world doesn’t need, and you won’t really be living life like it should be lived. Look at that creature between your heels and tell me you would rather live the life of an errand boy.”

“You’ve known me for all of a minute and a half, you’re gonna school me on how I should be living my life?”

The other man stopped in his tracks and wrapped his hands around the back of his skull, as though he’d been stricken by an overwhelming headache, and he groaned loudly. “You kids! ‘School’ is a word to be used as a noun, not a verb! Learn some proper grammar and you might actually grow up to be something instead of posing for cameras that aren’t trained on you.” Then he twisted around and dropped his arms. “Pay attention and maybe you can learn things because someone will teach you beyond the boundaries of your school. We clear on that?”

Jason pursed his lips and crossed his arms. “Crystal.”

At that, the older man’s upset expression broke with another smirk. “Most others your age would have muttered a curse and stormed off.”

“I don’t curse, but I’m still considering storming off.”

“That just says you have thoughts.” The other man planted his hands on his hips. “So, indulge me for a moment. What is it you’re planning to do?”

“Right this moment? I’m planning to go to the north end of the island so I can see the mainland. After that, I’ll get on Gyarados and go to Pallet Town, where I’ll figure out what I’m doing from there.”

“You’re gonna have yourself some time to think out a plan even before getting there. Even if you jump on your Gyarados right now and head that way, you won’t reach Pallet Town until just after nightfall. That’s if you don’t run into trainers intent on battling you. They see what you’re riding and they’ll want to pick a fight, you mark my words.”

“I’m sure they will. I’ll be ready for them, so that’s one less thing you’ll have to worry about. Getting there won’t be a problem for me. And once I’m there, I’ll be in the frame of mind I need to explore my options more fully. But I don’t know that I want to be a trainer, and you’re making research sound pretty sour. I could be capable in either of those fields, or something else altogether. I need the resources to figure this stuff out and I’ll have them there.”

The other considered Jason’s counter for a long moment, and then he bobbed his head. “That sounds like a fair arrangement.”

Jason scoffed. “Pleased to have your approval, I’m sure. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got somewhere to be.”

Wordlessly, the man turned back toward the beach and walked off. Jason crossed his arms as he watched him go. Awfully nosy. And what is it with older people not wanting to trade names? At least I got away with not giving him mine this time. I’ve heard people say names have power but I don’t think I ever understood that quite as clearly as I do now.

He turned and began to make his way north through the cluster of trees. Shortly, he emerged onto pavement and saw before him a bustling resort, complete with pools and condominiums, and rife with all types of people – from young hotshot trainers battling amongst themselves to the high-powered businessmen on cell phones and sitting at tables. The noise of chatter and restless Pokémon filled Jason’s ears, and only then did he realize how much he had missed the sound. Didn’t even realize that was something I’d gotten so used to. So many times I couldn’t stand the sound of my classmates milling around or tourist groups babbling to each other.

Suddenly he winced as he realized the sun had been striking the pavement for quite some time now, and he was without footwear. But there was no other path to the north end in evidence, so he saw little choice but to start running. He launched himself towards the nearest shadow cast by a local condo, trying to avoid muttering a string of oaths as he did so. What he’d said to the hippie was mostly true – he had never cursed aloud in his life, but he’d certainly heard his fair share of taboo words and every single one of them was coming back to him now.

Nevertheless, once he was in the shade, he found the concrete noticeably cooler, if not more pleasant to stand on. Bare feet don’t really find pleasure in standing on most manmade substances, Jason noted ruefully. He surveyed the path ahead and was disappointed to find he would have to repeat the process several times before reaching his destination. He heaved a sigh and readied himself for another run as he approached the edge of the building’s shadow. I’ll be lucky if I make it out of this with only a couple blisters.

As it turned out, his eventual arrival on the northern beach yielded him exactly two. He sat down on the sand and groaned at the sight of large bubbles on the pads of each of his feet. “Great. Just great,” he muttered. “That’s exactly what I need right now.”

He looked up and cast his gaze at the horizon, where the Kanto mainland was in plain sight. It was close enough that the various landscapes were immediately evident, but its distance was just as clear; Jason understood then that the wavy-haired man hadn’t been exaggerating, and that it would take at least until nightfall before he and Gyarados would reach it.

His stomach rumbled. He scowled at his midsection. “Oh, shut up.” Just adding to the list of physical problems I’ve got right now... but first thing’s first. He pulled off his shirt, then pulled on the sleeves until he heard and felt tearing. What had been a tee was quickly reduced to a muscle shirt; Jason then used the torn-off fabric to bind his blisters, grinding his teeth as he did so. Maybe keep the flesh from getting too exposed in case they pop... although this is like putting a screen door on a submarine.

He heard a loud splash just ahead, and looked up at the ocean to see Gyarados’ head and neck hovering above the surface. Its eyes were trained on him and its head was tilted inquisitively.

Jason held up one foot. “Yeah, okay, so I did something stupid. Next time I’ll just wait for you to finish and ride you around the island.” Then he stood up, trying to maintain balance on his heels. “You’re here, so I guess you’re done eating. We ready to go?”

Obligingly, Gyarados shuffled almost completely out of the water to allow Jason access to its back. Jason gingerly stepped to his Pokémon and mounted it, perching himself closer to Gyarados’ head than previously. “All right... let’s go gently. A salt water scrub won’t do much for my feet right now.”

As they headed out to the open water once again, Jason kept his eyes on the landmass occupying the horizon and lost himself in thought. Maybe the coot was right, and research isn’t for me. On the other hand, I’ve got knowledge of Pokémon that most trainers seem to lack, if the ones I’ve seen on Tangelo have been an accurate representation. That would be useful.

Problem: I don’t have credentials with me. Actually, I’ve got no ID with me of any kind... just my word that I am who I say I am. And it’s not exactly like I can tell Professor Oak to call my parents as references. For that matter, the guy’s probably right. Oak probably has all the research flunkies he needs coming out of the woodwork. He’s only one of the most famous authorities on Pokémon.

He looked down at the top of Gyarados’ head. “So what do you think, Gyarados? Think I’ve got a chance to become a top-notch errand boy for Professor Oak?”

If the Pokémon registered the inquiry as having been directed towards it, it offered no such indication; even the obligatory growl Jason might have expected was absent.

The teen sighed and slumped forward a bit, relaxing a little more across the back of the sea serpent’s neck. “Yeah, me either.” He patted its scaly hide. “Guess it doesn’t matter much anyway. Most of them are probably just a bunch of isolated nerds. You know the sort, with the plastic pocket protectors and horn-rimmed glasses. White lab coats, clipboards, the whole bit. They’re probably the same ones who climb into those Pikachu cosplay outfits. Creepy, right?”

Still no noise emerged from Gyarados’ throat. Jason pursed his lips and turned back to the horizon. “Okay, fine, I’ll just sit here and be quiet.”

You really shouldn’t expect Gyarados to answer with anything more than that, he thought. Anybody who thinks the label “atrocious Pokémon” applies to a social creature is a moron. You’re just talking out loud because you’re nervous of what’s going to happen. And that’s okay. You can be nervous. Just try to be optimistic, too. If you’re feeling like you’re at the lowest point of your life, just remember that it can only get better from here.

He crossed his arms atop Gyarados’ head and settled his chin on them, content to watch the landscape before them blossom into where he hoped to find his future.

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© Matt Morwell, 2011