Pathfinder

Part 4

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Jason began to understand more fully just how underwhelming were the other trainers who had occasion to face him. With his newly evolved Metapod and Kakuna, he continued to seek out trainers in the wild whose experience with training Pokémon, to say nothing of their experience with coexisting alongside them, clearly did not match his own. Though he might not have had constant contact with them, Jason had spent his entire life around Pokémon of many species and personalities, observing and interacting with them. He was realizing now just how much those experiences were serving him.

He rotated his active roster of Pokémon, with the continued exception of Gyarados, so that they had ample opportunity to make mistakes and then learn from them in the field of battle. In so doing, they gained the experience they required in order to make them tough contenders, and he began to see greater and greater dividends from the wagers made – or accepted – by trainers who made the mistake of underestimating him.

It wasn’t long before he found his credit line sailing past three thousand pokéyen, the initial amount Oak had extended him. As that amount soared up past four thousand, he resolved not to spend the first three on anything at all so that he would be able to, at the very least, pay the professor back in full. And it can also be a kind of insurance, he reasoned, in case somehow something goes sour.

That bitter flavor never came, though. Days continued to come and go, and Jason and his Pokémon were sampling only the sweet taste of success. It was a sensation from which Jason knew he couldn’t stray, even as he and his Pokémon slowly and deliberately inched their way from eastern Pewter City toward the caverns of Mt. Moon. His success, meantime, didn’t stop merely with the victories against bug catchers, young lasses, and hikers; it was complemented with the continued growth, both physical and emotional, of the Pokémon at his side. He put them into situations in which they would be forced to cooperate in the hopes that they would begin to demonstrate respect for each other.

Pidgey and Pikachu were his next success story in this area. The grasses yielded any number of wild Pidgeys and Spearows, which his two Pokémon would fend off with greater efficiency and aplomb – no longer at each others’ throats, but at each others’ backs, with the knowledge that neither one could stand on its own amidst as many birds as they had already seen. Their skill became such that it was clear further training in this region would be all but useless... neither would evolve against such base foes.

Surprisingly, Metapod and Kakuna also fared well in the grasses outside Pewter City. Jason still didn’t feel prepared to put them against pecking Spearows, but other Pidgeys were in the vicinity and both cocoon-bound Pokémon were eager to show off their talents against a foe most considered superior to them. In Jason’s estimation, the two appeared to have been endowed with more than just physical evolution – now the pair appeared to compliment each other with their skills, as well as challenge each other to do better than they themselves were capable of.

There’s just one thing missing.

As good as those Pokémon are... he’s gonna want more.

It was the one part of his deal with the Pokémon professor that he’d yet to even begin entertaining. He’d had virtually no contact with the lab. He was required to e-mail weekly reports containing information on the composition and condition of his team, but those were fielded by random staffers who only replied with token “thank you” messages. Contact with the professor himself was totally nonexistent – which simultaneously relieved and unnerved Jason. He didn’t want Oak berating him for not following through, but as each day passed, he worried about what the professor might decide to do if Jason didn’t follow through on that particular line item.

Not like I’m hurting for resources at this point, he thought. I have enough money to cover more Poké Balls. What concerned him was not his ability to capture other Pokémon – an ability he felt he’d gotten down to at least a finer art than instructing Gyarados to bat at things with its tail – but rather the jealousy he knew his Pokémon would sense as he became more selective about the group he intended to foster.

And that’s gonna happen, too, he knew. There’s no way I catch more Pokémon and not decide they offer some greater advantage that these guys don’t. And that bothers me way too much.

Nevertheless, he knew it was required – and it wasn’t as if he would never see them again. I’ll rotate them as needed, as long as I’m out here on the route. If I end up working for Oak at the lab itself, then I’ll be able to see all of them pretty much whenever I want to. Works for me.

Hope it’ll work for them, too.

—

Another day followed before he could bring himself to speak to his Pokémon about his revelation. At the junction of Routes 3 and 4, Jason made camp for the evening and brought out his customary team of five, and left Gyarados in its ball. He’d already settled on keeping Gyarados on his team – although he hadn’t yet had need of the sea serpent in trainer battles, he knew that he could count on seeing it on the field eventually. I’ll run into more advanced trainers than the kids and casual battlers I’ve seen so far. I need to be ready.

He released his Pokémon into the local grasses. Pidgey flapped about restlessly, while Rattata scratched behind one ear with a lower foot. Metapod and Kakuna, as he had predicted, remained perfectly in place and stared stoically at him; Pikachu, meantime, skittered in circles around Rattata, attempting to encourage it to play.

“All right, kids, settle down,” he said after several moments; the directive brought Pidgey and Pikachu to rest in the grass on either side of Rattata, who was more than just settled down – it looked almost bored.

He sat down in the grass and crossed his legs, then folded his hands between them. “Okay, here’s the thing, guys. I’m working for Professor Oak, helping him to put together notes on your various species, and you guys especially. But I need to bring him more than just notes on how you’re doing. He needs to see that I’m doing what he wants me to do, which is collect more Pokémon for his preserve. Everyone with me so far?”

The mixed reactions from his Pokémon suggested that they at least understood he was asking them a serious question to which he expected a positive answer. He gave them a reluctant smile. “Good. ‘Cause this is where things start getting tough for me. I have to start catching and training other Pokémon. All the different ones I can find out here in the wild... well, there’s a ton of ‘em, and Oak’s basically saying... I’ve gotta catch ‘em all.”

He let out a sigh that was half-groan at having uttered the phrase; it sounded too much like a cliché. “Here’s where the problem is. I want to hang on to all of you guys, have you all with me all the time. But I can’t. Not if I’m gonna catch a bunch of other Pokémon. They’ll need training too, and that means...” He hesitated, then tossed a helpless hand into the air. “Well, I’ll just say it. It means that probably most of you will be sent to his lab in Pallet Town sometime. I dunno if I’m gonna want to make a competitive team or anything, but I need a good mix with the Pokémon on my team. Able to do a lot of things that you guys might not be able to do.”

Although Metapod and Kakuna were, predictably, entirely stoic about what he was saying, the other three seemed to understand... or at least sense that the idea bothered him. Rattata and Pikachu shared the look of a chastised pet in that they stared wide-eyed at him while their ears were hiding behind their own skulls. Pidgey rustled restlessly. But none chose to interrupt him, leaving an uncomfortable silence hanging in the air when he paused.

He didn’t let the pause continue long. “Okay, so you guys know what I’m talking about, I guess. What I really need to know from you is how much it would bother you to be sent there. You’d be away from me, yeah, but Oak’s got plenty of other Pokémon there you can hang out with, goof off with... make lots of new friends.” He leaned backward. “And... I guess I’d like to know if any of you were wanting to go first.”

Jason was thrown off, and yet not entirely surprised, when Rattata stepped forward and poised itself before him. The teen trainer raised his eyebrows at the violet rodent. “Really?”

“Rat!” it barked, and then very nearly melted Jason’s heart by hugging his leg. “Rat, Ratta-tat-rat!”

“Um... okay...” He felt confused. “Not sure I understand. Does that mean you want to stay?”

Rattata wagged its head back and forth in its best imitation of humanity’s method for saying “no”. “Rat-Rat-Rattata!”

My kingdom for a translator, Jason thought sardonically, but he knelt down and looked his Pokémon in the eye, hoping he might find there some motivation or reason for Rattata to leave the group. The contact of their gazes was not enough to drive a revelation of any significant import into Jason’s brain, but he was sure that he could see both loyalty and love for the trainer that had captured and trained it. This came as little surprise to him, as Rattata had displayed nothing but these things since its capture... but it did make him consider the possibility that Rattata knew whatever lay ahead, it was better than where it had started out. And should Jason ever have need of its services again, it would be only a call away.

He gave Rattata a half-smile. “Know something? I think you’d probably enjoy it the most there anyway. There’s good food and lots of friendly Pokémon for you to hang out with. Probably way better digs than where you used to live... a hole in the ground with a billion brothers and sisters all fighting over the same mother’s milk all the time.”

“Rat Rat!” The rodent bobbed its head in agreement.

“You’re willing to do this for me, huh?”

“Rat Rat!”

Jason rubbed Rattata’s head affectionately and smiled again. “I’m glad. Thank you.” He got back to his feet and surveyed the rest of his team. “I’m likely to get way more than just one Pokémon. I’d appreciate it if you could all show me the same trust Rattata has. I won’t leave you in that preserve for the rest of time. I’ll be needing you all, every single one of you. It just might not be all at once for much longer.”

Rattata returned to its post next to Pidgey, who still seemed as restless as before. It cawed at Rattata; Rattata shot a quick bark back in response.

“Hey!” Jason snapped. “I dunno what you two are saying but it doesn’t sound so friendly. Don’t pester each other. You might not get to see each other for a little while.”

The two Pokémon reluctantly backed down in submission, but they still directed quick glares at each other – a problem Jason didn’t feel the need to rectify just now. If they truly had issues, they could deal with them at some later date. He pulled out the Poké Balls. “Okay. I just needed to make sure you all understand. It’s what a Pokémon trainer does. It’s what pretty much all of them do. Doesn’t mean it’s easy for me.” He hesitated. “Doesn’t mean I’ll love you guys any less.”

Before he could let himself get caught in the emotion of the moment, he returned Metapod and Kakuna to their balls, followed by Pikachu and Pidgey. Rattata was last... and Jason drew out the moment in which it was only the two of them looking at each other.

He offered a sad smile as he held up its ball. “Return!”

Once the ball had reclaimed its prize, Jason looked at the sphere in his hand for another long moment, the sad expression still adorning his features. Finally, he whispered, “See you soon.”

He turned his gaze back up to the road, where he could see the lights of the Pokémon Center beginning to spear into the twilight sky. That was where he would contact Oak’s lab – to submit both his latest report and his first wild Pokémon into their care.

—

“I’d been wondering when you were going to get around to this part.”

Jason couldn’t quite help but flinch at the tone of the professor’s voice over the video link. The Pokémon Center on Route 4 had a convenient terminal at which trainers could transfer their Pokémon to and from various laboratories and preserves. Built into it was a video conferencing system, which was an invaluable asset in communicating with the staff one was likely to encounter at such locations. Staring at him through the video screen now was the wizened face of Professor Oak, who was clearly engaged in some manner of off-screen activity with his hands; both his arms were shifting randomly back and forth in front of him, but his visual focus was clearly the conversation at hand.

“Sorry, Professor,” the teen replied. “I’ve gotten myself a bit... I guess caught up in training these guys.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. What does is the fact that no Pokémon have yet come from you via instant transport. I’d have expected to walk in the vault and see a rack full of Poké Balls from you by now if you’re as engaged and successful as your reports claim you to be.”

Jason blinked, not entirely sure he comprehended what Oak was saying. He tried to offer a satisfactory response. “Well, yeah, but like I said, I got carried away with the training. I got used to my team, I didn’t just want to send them back at random, you know, make them feel like they’re not wanted.”

“I understand that, Jason. I’m talking about the Pokémon Management System’s instant transport function.” Oak tilted his head. “The look on your face suggests you have no idea what I’m talking about.”

“I haven’t read the latest on Pokémon capture technology,” Jason admitted.

“It isn’t all that new. I’m rather surprised you’re not familiar with it, given your background.”

“I worked in retail, not tech support.”

Oak actually chuckled at that remark. “All right. Well, it’s a rather long and involved explanation, but I’ll try to condense it for you.”

“Yes, please.”

“At the most basic level, the instant transport function activates after you’ve caught a Pokémon when you already have a full roster of six Pokémon with you. The tagging technology in your belt does the work for you here. If you successfully capture a seventh Pokémon, the instant transport will do to your Poké Ball what your Poké Ball does to the Pokémon inside it – it becomes a form of energy which is then drawn to the nearest Pokémon Center’s Pokémon Management System. It gets processed through the system, then automatically transferred here.”

“So I don’t have to wait to send them to you and I don’t have to frustrate my team.”

“Precisely.”

Jason scoffed. “I don’t suppose you know how much money it cost to develop a system for that convenience.”

“Probably more than the average trainer can look forward to earning,” Oak answered, “but we have access to it for free, which is the most convenient thing about that convenience.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Does this mean I can look forward to seeing more Pokémon from you, then? I’d like to be able to interact with the ones you’re training, as well.”

“You’ll see them,” Jason promised. “I just had to sit down with them, let them know I don’t mean it personally when I send them off to you.”

“Getting awfully connected to your Pokémon, I see. Most trainers I’ve met value the majority of their Pokémon usually just for the prestige of having caught and trained those species. They only share an emotional bond with the select few they want to keep with them permanently.”

“You know I’m not your typical trainer, Professor,” Jason replied.

“You’re not my typical anything. But I’m glad that you’ve taken your assignment to heart.” Oak pointed a finger at Jason. “Now you have to take the next step. You know how to capture, you know how to train, you know how to battle. The next step is showing me the results of all three. Get out there and catch Pokémon – and not just the ones you think you need, but all the ones you can find.”

Jason scoffed. “Catch ‘em all, huh?”

“That’s right.” Oak toyed with a console on his left side, out of view of the screen. “By the way, Jason, you’re going to find yourself eventually building a team of Pokémon you trust implicitly, more than any of your others. Don’t worry that you’re offending the ones you keep out of your ‘main group’. Most Pokémon species are intelligent enough to demonstrate outstanding loyalty to their trainers... but not as many have the capacity for jealousy, or the ability to understand they’re treated differently.”

“Yeah, well, Rattata’s got all of the above in a neat little package,” Jason responded. “So if he gets antsy, let me know.”

“That, I’ll certainly do. The transport system here is ready.”

“Thanks.” Jason hefted Rattata’s Poké Ball, then inserted it in the terminal’s nearest socket and closed the material vault; he hesitated a moment longer, then input the Transfer command. The machine whirred and hummed into life – then just as quickly lapsed back into silence.

“Got him.” Oak held up the Poké Ball to the screen as proof.

Jason blinked in surprise. “Seriously, that quickly?”

“Seriously.” The professor hatched the ball open; upon materialization, Rattata chased its tail for a couple circles, then settled and inspected the man bearing its ball, releasing a curious bark. Oak glanced back at the video camera to cast a strange look at Jason. “Interesting specimen. Are you sure your reports have been doing this one justice?”

“First time he’s done that.” Jason tossed his chin at the image of Rattata. “Hey, down there, you behave for the professor.”

“Rat!”

“Most Pokémon here don’t have much trouble with that,” Oak commented dryly. “I think he should fit in here just fine. But as for you, get back out there and do a job.”

Jason cast a mock salute. “Yes, sir.”

“Take care.” The connection was severed.

Jason looked down at his belt, where there was now an empty socket in his number two slot. This is gonna take some getting used to, he thought. He looked up at the Pokémon Center’s front door. Better get out there and get used to it. It’s the life of a Pokémon trainer.

—

He chose not to alter his training regimen with Rattata’s departure, but he took the next several days to backtrack along Route 3 instead of progressing into Mt. Moon. He had several reasons in mind for the change in course – first and foremost being he hadn’t caught every brand of Pokémon he’d seen there. He’d yet to plumb the flocks of Spearows through which his Pokémon had spent weeks of wading, and he’d heard from several trainers that there were a few Jigglypuffs in the vicinity; “hard to find, but worth the effort if you do” had been the words of a young girl named Robin, whose own Jigglypuff had nearly defeated the majority of Jason’s team.

Jason wasn’t quite as certain about wanting to make use of a Jigglypuff on his team. He felt it wasn’t quite a reflection of his style as a trainer... although he knew if someone were to ask him what his style was, he’d have to spend a long time debating the answer. He was conscious of the fact that whatever Pokémon he caught next would need to remain on his team for a fair amount of time in order to catch up to the others in terms of ability. Of course, most Pokémon I catch from this point onward are likely to be that way, he mentally noted. If my Pokémon are able to beat a wild one to the point of capture, then that one obviously isn’t as ready as the rest of them, and it’ll need to be.

Of the two species that had come most readily to his mind, he felt more inclined to capture a Spearow, notwithstanding the animosity his other teammates might have for one. He knew that Pikachu and Pidgey, especially, wouldn’t take kindly to that particular species being represented on his team. But Jason reasoned that those two had been able to resolve their differences and at least behave civilly towards each other, if not be each others’ closest pals. If I got them to accept each other, and I got Metapod and Kakuna to accept each other, then maybe I’ve got a chance of bringing a Spearow “inside”. I can’t ignore it’s a good Pokémon, and evolves into an even better one.

That sentiment, Jason soon discovered, was much more easily conceived than executed. At first, Pidgey and Pikachu didn’t even consider entertaining the notion that a Spearow would be useful to the team. As a result, whenever Jason sent them against one in which he demonstrated interest, they sabotaged his efforts to catch it by driving it off with the sheer force and ferocity of their attacks. This made him feel very much like he was being forced into choosing among Metapod, Kakuna, and Gyarados as his instrument for wearing down a prospective capture – and he was well-aware that two of those three Pokémon, in spite of their hardened armor and boosted abilities, were simply no match for the kind of bird he was after. He was equally reluctant to send Gyarados in, even knowing a single tail swipe would be all the action he needed the sea serpent to take.

Too tempting, he thought. And that pretty much eliminates my team. I can’t take Rattata back because he needs time at the lab – and I really don’t want to ditch any of my remaining Pokémon to keep them separate from a Spearow.

He heaved a sigh at his performing Pidgey, which had just sent away yet another Spearow in a raking hail of feathers and clawed feet. The bird turned and looked at him curiously, letting out a call as it stared.

“Yes, you,” Jason accused, responding to the unasked question. “I told you and Pikachu to knock that stuff off. What is it with you two? You think I’m going to love you any less ‘cause I’ve got a Spearow with us?”

Pidgey chirped petulantly.

“Yeah, well, you know what? Forget it. Look at Metapod and Kakuna. Those two hate each others’ guts, or at least they did. Look at yourself and Pikachu, for that matter. You guys get along fine now. I’m betting you can do the same for a Spearow.”

Pidgey took flight and hovered in front of Jason’s face, cheeping at him with an angry glare. Jason scowled right back at it. “You know something, it’s not that easy keeping you guys in line all the time. I’m counting on you to do the things I need you to do, and if I can’t count on that...”

He plucked Pidgey’s Poké Ball from his belt and held it up for the Pokémon to see. “...then I guess you can just get back in the ball and I’ll send you to the lab with Rattata, too.”

Pidgey dropped to the ground then, and stared up at Jason, releasing a series of chirps that were far less loud and mocking. The trainer crossed his arms over his chest, the ball still in plain sight under his arm. “Okay, so now that we know where we stand, are you gonna work for me, or are you making it easy for me to decide who goes home next?”

Pidgey performed an about-face – a gesture that was unmistakably human, and thus intended to demonstrate in Jason’s own language the Pokémon’s displeasure – and took flight again, its keen eyes scanning the grasses for more prey. Its search didn’t take long, and soon it had flushed out another Spearow and driven it into the open.

Jason’s eyes narrowed as he watched the two spar with each other. It was true what Nurse Joy had told him: Pidgey wasn’t one to peck and scratch at its foes, preferring instead to manipulate the wind and air currents to its own advantage, whereas Spearow was very much otherwise. Jason considered directing his Pokémon’s movements; there was still a strong current of concern that ran through his mind with regard to how Pidgey would treat a Spearow, or any other newcomer to the team, for that matter.

This time around, however, Jason could clearly see that Pidgey was holding back – he’d seen it execute any number of attacks that were far more powerful and effective against wild foes, but for this Spearow it held back and injured it only to the minimal degree. It was the smaller of the two battling Pokémon and it took advantage of that fact by harassing the Spearow instead of trying to face it toe-to-toe.

Jason knew his cue had arrived when the Spearow was having difficulty rising from the fall it had taken from Pidgey’s last attack, a diving Tackle from the air that rolled its avian foe across several feet of beaten dirt path. He stepped forward, pulling an enlarged ball from his vest pocket as he moved. “All right, Pidgey, back off, I’ve got it from here.”

The ball sailed through the air and struck the fallen Spearow’s chest dead-on. The bird was immediately sucked into the swirling vortex of energy, and for several breathless moments Jason stared at the ball intently while it wobbled back and forth on the ground. I threw it too early, he fretted, as the ball gave a second and third violent shake.

But at that moment, the Spearow appeared to give up the fight, and the reassuring chime that issued from his belt informed him it had, indeed, been captured.

Jason smiled and approached the fallen ball. When he knelt down and picked it up, he turned to Pidgey and held up the capsule. “See there? Got yourself another victory, and a fighting companion.”

Pidgey let out a noise that, if it had been human, Jason was quite convinced would have been a harrumph. It did another about-face, pointedly looking away from him and sticking its tail up in the air. The trainer scoffed and held up Pidgey’s Poké Ball. “Fine, be a pill about it. But you’re gonna be that way in the ball. Return!”

The next several days were devoted to trying to get Spearow integrated with the rest of the team. As a male, Jason fully expected for the Pokémon to have certain testosterone issues with the others – though he also expected it would offer Gyarados a wide berth, which it did. The teen’s expectations were fulfilled handily; for the first couple days, Spearow was standoffish towards the other Pokémon. Metapod and Kakuna demonstrated no reaction, though Jason suspected that was mostly because they weren’t easily able to show displeasure, faces hidden as they were within their shells. Nevertheless, it took a series of pecks and squawks at the two Bug-Type Pokémon – and a fair amount of lecturing from Jason – for Spearow to finally give up on provoking them. That was when the newest winged member of Jason’s team made the supremely unwise decision to pester Pikachu. The rodent reacted to a hostile peck with a quick jolt of electricity... after which, Jason had promptly returned Pikachu to its ball and admonished the still-shuddering Spearow.

“Yeah, that wasn’t a very bright thing to do, now, was it?” he said, kneeling next to the quivering bird. He pursed his lips at it for a moment and waited for the spasms to stop; when they finally subsided, he reached out and patted Spearow’s wing. “There, that’s all the sympathy you get. Don’t be an idiot. Most Pokémon that tangle with him end up fried, like you. Birds especially. And while I’ve got you down here, would you stop bothering Pidgey? Dealing with her is bad enough now that you're here, she’s not liking either you or me very much.”

Pidgey most definitely took the cake, as far as issues of dominance were concerned. Pidgey was not about to let itself be pushed around by a newcomer, and it was certainly stronger than Spearow – but that didn’t stop Spearow from trying to assert itself by harassing Pidgey. Jason knew it was equal parts race- and gender-related... in many Pokémon species, the male was dominant, and it was an embarrassment for the female to take that role away from the male.

He kept both eyes trained on the two avian creatures and tried to make sure they behaved civilly towards each other when both were outside their balls, but more often he found himself keeping one inside its ball while the other was in the open. He couldn’t even consider allowing the two of them to battle in tandem; they continued to misbehave towards each other to such an extent that he began having to waste valuable resources patching them each up. Liquid spray potion that should have gone to injuries sustained in “real” battles instead was applied after Pidgey and Spearow raked each other with their talons and beaks.

As the days passed, Jason noted improvement in Spearow’s behavior towards the others. It didn’t peck at Metapod and Kakuna’s shells, nor did it caw or flap at Pikachu. And it obeyed Jason’s directives when they were issued – but notably, it made an exception when it came to bothering Pidgey. No matter if Jason made a fanfare about releasing the female bird or if he tried releasing it quietly and in the opposite direction, Spearow always seemed to notice when Pidgey was no longer contained and would take the next available opportunity to start pestering.

Nearly two weeks after Spearow’s capture, Jason had released Pidgey to let it seek out grubs for food in the mid-evening, a task at which the bird was having little success. At the same time, he was still in the midst of training Spearow to become a force of equal strength in comparison to the rest of his team, most of whom were elsewhere in the grasses and enjoying being outdoors. Pikachu, especially, seemed to have boundless energy and took great pleasure in running all manner of routes around Metapod and Kakuna. The latter two were in some degree of motion, but so sluggish in it that they might as well have been standing still next to the electric mouse.

The battle Jason was orchestrating involved his Spearow versus a wild one, and it was clear that his had improved in its battle skills in the way it executed its moves. Each command was obeyed instantly, and sometimes didn’t even have to be issued in order for it to understand what Jason was attempting to accomplish. While it might have appeared a relatively even battle upon its commencement, it quickly became clear the wild one was simply no match for its trained counterpart, and it fled before it could be too badly injured.

But the victory was apparently not enough for Spearow – or perhaps it was the adrenaline high from having earned that victory – and it darted into the grasses Pidgey was patiently hunting through. Its effort was met with a loud caw from its foil and a blast of air strong enough to knock Spearow back out of the grass... but simultaneously created such a ruckus it was clear Pidgey wouldn’t be feeding here.

Jason groaned aloud and pulled out Pidgey’s Poké Ball. Guess there’s no hunting for tonight. I’ll have to feed her later myself and she’ll hate herself and me for that. “Pidgey, return!” he called, for what seemed the umpteenth time, and he scowled at Spearow. The avian had no repentance in its expression and released a loud caw as Jason returned Pidgey’s Poké Ball to his belt.

Jason leveled a finger at Spearow. “I’ve just about had it with you!” he snapped. “You’re supposed to be a member of this team. But I’ve gotta say, right now, I’m thinking it was a mistake to ever make you a part of it!”

Spearow tilted its head to one side and chirped inquisitively – “Spear?” – then fluttered its wings.

The teen scoffed and waved his hand dismissively at Spearow. “Fine, you know what? Maybe you should just get out of here. I wasted the ball on you. If all you want to do is peck at a Pidgey, find some wild one to toy with. You don’t get to do it to mine.”

Where no admonishment or condemnation had seemed to work, that expression of utter contempt seemed to bring Spearow to a standstill. Now the expression in its eyes had taken a significant change, and it cautiously stepped toward Jason. But Jason aimed his finger at Spearow again. “Stop. You stay right there. If you’re gonna act like this, I don’t want you as part of my team. You can go back to your nest and have a nice life, harass Pidgeys and anyone and anything else that comes around, or you can decide to stick with me. But you keep this up, and I’ll make sure you regret it the rest of your life.”

Spearow chirped again. “Row?”

“I’m dead serious.” Jason plucked Gyarados’ Poké Ball from his belt and thrust it out in front of him for emphasis – a movement that caused Spearow to visibly flinch. “You do it again, Gyarados will wring you out. You won’t even get Pikachu. You’ll get this guy. Either go home, or show me you’re gonna do things my way.”

Spearow stared into Jason’s eyes. Jason stared straight back, eyes narrow but unblinking. Several long moments passed – and then Spearow dipped its head and turned its gaze to the ground directly in front of its feet. Jason let out a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding. Slightly more dangerous game to play with Pokémon, he recalled having been taught, but effective for trainers when the unequivocal establishment of dominance is necessary.

He put Gyarados’ Poké Ball back in his belt, then took out Spearow’s, enlarged it, and held it out. “Return.”

Once the bird was safely back in the confines of the ball, he sat down on the ground and let out a heavy sigh. He stared at the blue sky – nary a cloud occupied it today – and asked it aloud, “Just what is it I’m supposed to do? I feel like I’m doing something wrong, here.”

Maybe you are, a voice in his mind contended. Maybe you shouldn’t be training Pokémon. You wanted a Gyarados, doesn’t mean you wanted to be a pro at this. It’s a gig, nothing more than that. You build up your money while you’re figuring out what you really want.

And I’ll bet you don’t even know what that is, do you?

He knew the answer to that question. “Of course I know what I want,” he muttered. “It’s the one thing I can’t have.”

And that’s just typical.


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© Matt Morwell, 2011