Novels2Search

TWENTY

The following weeks passed quickly for Cashe. Training went well. Better than well, actually. Training was fantastic. He battled another fifty-two registered trainers across the city and did not lose a single time. He, Bulbasaur, and Mankey felt more in sync than ever, and his True Rookie rating had climbed into the top seventy-five for the region. Granted, some of that increase was due to top trainers having challenged the Third Circuit, and therefore were no longer True Rookies, but a ranking of seventy-second still felt good.

Lindon also had a strong month, and was beginning to express a desire for a second pokemon. With the date of departure coming close, however, he was growing more and more nervous and neither Cashe nor Emilia felt he should be attempting to catch and train a new pokemon in that state.

Emilia was having an even better month than Cashe, crossing into the top twenty-five True Rookies thanks to the proclivity of teenagers challenging her to battles. Charmander was on the verge of evolving, Cashe was sure, and it felt like Omanyte wouldn’t even need to as she was already so strong.

To top it all off, they had successfully avoided the pair of creepy strangers the entire month. Cashe had spotted them several times, and was more convinced they were up to something than ever before. At first he suspected some sort of pokemon world hijinks vis-à-vis Team Rocket, but he quickly realized they were searching for something. He caught them on more than one occasion sitting on a bench staring, unblinking, at the entrance to the Vermillion City Gym as he walked past. Another time, he caught them arguing loudly about the appropriateness of challenging the very same Gym ‘considering their objective’, and on another occasion the woman was speaking happily to an extremely well dressed man in a top hat while her partner stood beside them, stiff as a board and pale as a ghost. Luckily, they were incredibly easy to avoid and seemed to be largely oblivious to anything but each other.

Now, Cashe was finishing his final preparations for their departure. Mankey and Bulbasaur were on the couch, a territory they claimed as their own for the past few days, while Emilia was finishing packing her things. Lindon was at the small kitchen table, fidgeting where he sat.

“You know,” Cashe said aloud, deliberately not making it apparent who he was talking to, “We’re leaving tomorrow afternoon. If there’s anything anyone wants to do at the last minute, now would be a good time.”

Emilia didn’t respond but Lindon froze in his seat.

“When I left to come to Kanto,” Cashe continued, “it was sudden. I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to anyone. I didn’t know I was leaving, but I regret missing the opportunity all the same.”

“You didn’t say goodbye to anyone?” Lindon said, his voice higher than normal.

“Nope,” Cashe said, “And it hurts to think about how sad I made them by leaving like that. There’s not a lot I wouldn’t give to tell my loved ones goodbye.”

Cashe continued to go through his things for several more minutes, going over his supplies that he would need for the upcoming journey after the cruise. Lindon didn’t speak the entire time, but when Cashe was just about to finish up, he got up from the table.

“I-I think I’m going to do something,” Lindon said, looking anywhere but at Cashe.

“Sounds good, just be careful out there,” Cashe said, “And make sure you’re back in time for departure tomorrow.”

Lindon nodded and darted out the door, slamming it as he left the suite.

Emilia entered the living area from her room, looking at the door from where Lindon departed, “Where’s he going?”

“To his parent’s place I think,” Cashe said, “He was agonizing over something and I was pretty sure I knew what it was, so I gave him a little push.”

“So we've got the night to ourselves,” Emilia raised an eyebrow, “Want to grab dinner and catch a movie? There’s one out about a Yamper that plays baseball. Thought you might like it.”

“There’s no rule that says pokemon can’t play baseball!” Cashe responded automatically.

“Yes there is,” Emilia said with a confused expression, “There are several.”

“Oh. Well that’s no fun.”

“Where would the tension in the movie even come from if the Yamper could play within the rules? That movie would just be everyone having a good time.”

“I knew you were one of them, those anti-pokemon prudes,” Cashe scoffed, shaking his fist at Emilia and making her giggle, “Really though, I can probably only do one, I’m a bit busy tonight.”

“Oh? Am I going to finally find out where you’ve been running off to every couple of nights?”

“Therapy,” Cashe said.

“Really?” Emilia’s smile was genuine, “I was hoping you’d go, but you never mentioned it.”

“I was nervous about it,” Cashe admitted, “I don’t know why. I guess it felt like I would be burdening everyone with my problems. I- I haven’t told her everything, but it's been good.”

“That’s dumb,” Emilia said, “Not the part about it being good, the other part.”

“I know, but I felt it anyway.” Cashe said with a sad shrug.

“Dinner then,” Emilia said.

“Hmm?”

“We’ll do dinner. A proper one to celebrate, at a good place that we couldn’t go to before.”

“You mean because Lindon won’t be there to embarrass you by ordering a meal shaped like dinosaur pokemon?”

“He’s twelve! He should be eating real food by now!”

***

Dr Atwood’s office was small, but comfortable. As usual, she sat on a plush chair with a leather bound notebook in her lap. She was a short woman, with silver-gray hair in an old fashioned bob, and a kind, round face. Cashe sat across from her, leaning back in his chair.

“How are you doing today, Cashe?” Dr Atwood said.

“Fine. Well, even,” Cashe said, “It’s been a good week.”

“Nothing new troubling you?”

“No. Nothing you don’t already know about.” Cashe looked away from Dr Atwood, “Bulbasaur and Mankey both learned new moves. I think they have a real shot at the tournament now. Emilia even thinks Bulbasaur might evolve soon.”

“That’s exciting,” Dr Atwood said, “Evolution is a wonderful symbol of progress in our lives. It’s proof you and your pokemon are working hard and moving forward.”

“I’m proud of them,” Cashe said, smiling as he thought about his pokemon, “They are really giving it everything they have.”

“Happy pokemon is the first sign of a great trainer. I’m sure they are proud of you, too.”

“Yeah.” Cashe looked at his hands, scratching at a fingernail, “I leave tomorrow. For Alola.”

“So you have said,” Dr Atwood said, “You mentioned it in our last session, and several before that.”

“I did?”

Dr Atwood smiled gently, “You did.”

“I guess I’m nervous,” Cashe looked at Dr Atwood. She looked back. “The last time I left somewhere it didn’t go so well.”

“This would be when you left Pallet Town and made a child cry.”

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“Yeah,” Cashe pinched his lips together and gripped his knees with his hands. “Actually, no. That’s not it.”

He glanced at Dr Atwood again. She had the same kind smile. She was waiting for him to continue.

He swallowed, “I haven’t told you why I’m really here.” He took a deep breath, “I’m worried I won’t be able to get back home.”

“Is that the reason you are here?” Dr Atwood said, not looking at all surprised by the revelation.

“What?”

“Is that the reason?”

A nod.

“Can you say it aloud?”

“The reason I am here is…” Cashe stopped his mouth hanging open. His mind felt thick. He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t say the reason.

“Cashe,” Dr Atwood uncrossed her legs and leaned forward in her chair, “I have been a psychologist for forty-three years. I am quite good at reading between the lines. This is your eighth session. Can you tell me why you are here?”

Cashe blinked rapidly. His throat was tight and hot. His heart was pounding in his chest. He gripped the arms of his chair, the fabric pinched into his skin.

“Many of my patients have an odd way of communicating with me,” Dr Atwood continued, “They will talk about everything, their childhood, their anxieties, their sex lives, anything except for the reason they came to me in the first place.”

Cashe tried to swallow but couldn’t. His throat hurt. His eyes itched. He rubbed them. His hands came back wet.

“Why don’t we spend this session talking about your wife?”

She knew.

“My wife?” Cashe said, his voice hoarse.

“You’re wearing a wedding ring,” Dr Atwood pointed out, "but you never bring her up."

Cashe looked. There it was. Tears ran down his face. He could barely speak.

“I’m never going to see my wife again,” Cashe whispered, “And I’m scared.”

Dr Atwood’s smile was sad, her eyes filled with sympathy and understanding, “Why don’t you tell me about her?”

***

Emilia looked up from her laptop as Cashe entered the hotel room. She smiled, “How’d the session go, ready for dinner?”

Cashe walked over to the pullout couch. Bulbasaur and Mankey watched him come, both sitting on top of pillows.

“Cashe?” Emilia said. She stood up from the kitchen table.

“Bulbasaur.” Bulbasaur waddled over to him, his feet unsteady on the cushioned surface and looked up at Cashe with his big red eyes.

Cashe dropped onto couch's mattress, slouching, head bowed.

Emilia sat down beside him as Mankey climbed into his lap. The little monkey poked him in the stomach, trying to get his attention.

“The session was a little rough,” Cashe said. He cleared his throat, “I don’t think I’m up to going out for dinner.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” Cashe said, falling onto his back and splaying out on the mattress.

“Okay. Let’s just stay here then.” Emilia mirrored him, lying beside him. Mankey crawled off his lap and up beside his head. She began picking through his hair in an attempt to groom him. Bulbasaur crawled to the other side of his head and nudged him gently, snuggling in the crook of his neck.

“I’m never going home,” Cashe whispered. He stared at the ceiling, blinking tears from his eyes, “I’m never going to see my family again.”

Emilia said nothing. She reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently. Cashe squeezed back.

***

It was a beautiful day for departures. The sun was shining and a cool wind blew through the air. The crisp scent of the sea rose with the wind, stinging pleasantly as Cashe breathed it in.

He and Emilia were at the docks, a few hours before the departure of their vessel, the SS Ambition. A small desk sat at the end of the docks, not far ahead of them, two large men in black shirts stood on either side of it with an officious looking man sitting behind them. He and Emilia were waiting in line to finalize their registration for the True Rookie Tournament and check in for departure.

Mankey and Bulbasaur were out of their pokeballs, enjoying the sea air. Mankey was at her usual position on his shoulder while Bulbasaur was poking around the line, curiously inspecting the other trainers. Cashe had one of Bulbasaur's vines gripped in his hand so he wouldn’t wander too far off.

Charmander and Omanye were similarly out of their pokeballs. Charmander, in an imitation of Mankey, managed to crawl onto Emilia’s shoulder, while Omanyte was taking the opportunity to take a dip in the harbor. Cashe, remembering the Golduck, was worried about her encountering a dangerous wild pokemon, but Emilia was fine with it so Cashe didn’t press the issue.

Many others in the line also had their pokemon out of their pokeballs. Cashe saw a Growlithe chasing after a Cutiefly and a Lotad with a Sunkern rolling around on its lily pad. The attitude of the trainers was upbeat, but tense. People smiled and played with their pokemon, a few listened to music and others were browsing their phones or doing last minute research on their pokedex. But no one spoke with each other. No one made eye contact. Everyone was well aware that as soon as they stepped foot on the SS Ambition, every trainer was a competitor.

Ignoring all of that, Lindon came running up the dock, his footsteps crashing against the wood and drawing attention like a man laughing at a funeral. People stared as he ran past, many looking on with disapproval.

“Apollo! Emilia! Sorry I’m late,” Lindon reached them, bending over with his hands on his knees to catch his breath, “My parents wanted to say goodbye on the docks but I told them no.”

“Why did you do that?” Emilia said, wearing the ghost of a teasing smile, “I think your parents would have liked to meet the people you are traveling with.”

“Um,” Lindon’s eyes went wide and he looked away from Emilia.

“Hey, back of the line, kid.” The speaker was a tanned man, a few inches shorter than Cashe, in a tight black tee-shirt and board shorts and flip flops. He looked around Emilia’s age, maybe a bit older, and had spiked blond hair and was wearing a pair of aviator sunglasses that were too large for his head. He had a toothpick in his mouth, and like most of the trainers, his only luggage was a Silph Co. backpack. Unlike most other trainers, he had no pokeballs on his belt or pokemon wandering around his person.

“He’s with us,” Emilia said, crossing her arms, “We were waiting for him.”

“What are you, his mom or something? Wait at the back of the line.” Sunglasses said.

“It’s not like there are limited spots,” Cashe said, turning to face Sunglasses, “We’ve all already registered. This is not going to stop you from entering the tournament."

Sunglasses looked between Emilia, Lindon, and Cashe. He smirked, dipping his chin so his sunglasses slid down his nose, allowing his eyes to peek over the rim of his glasses and meet Cashe’s gaze. He rolled the toothpick around in his mouth and stepped forward, walking right up to Cashe. On his shoulder, Mankey bristled.

“Listen, bud, I see what you're doing, with the girl and the kid. I respect it.” He placed a hand on Cashe’s chest and gave him a pat, “But aren’t you a little old to be a rook?” He brought his voice down to a whisper, “Kind of screams 'midlife crisis' to me.”

“What?” Emilia snarled at the man before Cashe had a chance to respond. She shoved back against him hard, causing him to stumble away and Charmander to lose his balance on her shoulder.

“Whoa!” Sunglasses raised his hands and back away with a chuckle, “Careful there, sweetheart. You might get yourself in trouble.” He glanced at Lindon, “Listen kid, you’ve got to avoid women like this. Way too emotional. You need someone who knows their place.”

“Do not speak to her like that.” Cashe said. He stepped into the man’s space. Mankey made a small yelp at the sudden movement. “I don’t know if this is some tactic or if you’re just an asshole, but back off.”

“Look who’s found his voice,” Sunglasses smirked wider and removed the toothpick from his mouth, tossing it off the docks, “Very scary. Deep. Dark. I like it. Don’t think your friends will feel the same way though.”

Cashe blinked, “What?”

A hand slammed down on his shoulder, “Sir, step away.”

Cashe turned around. Two large men in black shirts were standing behind him. One was zoning Emilia and Lindon away from the line and the other had a death grip on his shoulder. Both had the word ‘security’ plastered across their chests in large white letters.

“Sorry, bud,” Sunglasses snorted and shoved past Cashe, causing him to stumble. The security guard did nothing. “Maybe next time.” The man waved as the pair of security guards forcibly escorted Cashe, Emilia, and Lindon to the back of the line.

***

“Do you see that?” Daryl said, staring at the line of trainers waiting to check in for the True Rookie Tournament.

“Did you see that?” Connie said, “Some security guards just broke up a fight.”

Daryl glanced at where Connie was pointing. Some schmuck was being dragged to the back of the line with his wife and kid.

“Not that, that.” Daryl pointed to the second line, the one for regular passengers. Or the one for non-trainers, at least. Regular was a relative term and the True Rookie Tournament was famous worldwide. Despite tickets for the cruise being ostensibly available to everyone on a first come, first serve basis, it always seemed like a group of significant or important individuals managed to get their hands on them.

The group Daryl was referring to had retired Gym leaders, high ranking members of the Pokemon League, and well known celebrities in it.

“Is that Dalia Scarlett?” Connie said, following Daryl’s arm to the famous musician, “I didn’t know you were a fan. I guess it makes sense, considering your adoration for Selena Oak.” Connie huffed.

“I’m not a fan, I don’t adore Selena - she scared the crap out of me - and I’m not talking about Dalia. Look beside her. There’s just some guy standing there with another dozen people.”

“So?”

“So, I don’t recognize him. And look at the group. They look weird right?”

“Are those uniforms?” Connie said. She brushed her silver hair away from her face and squinted through the morning sun. The group were standing around a plainly dressed man. Or plain for the celebrities by whom he was surrounded. He had dark hair and thick glasses, and was wearing a green polo shirt under a casual sports jacket. The men and women surrounding him were all wearing a similar outfit, but had something embroidered on their jackets.

“I think so?” Daryl said, “It’s weird right? Who has a personal staff like that in this day and age? And how did he get tickets for all of them?”

“Mysterious indeed. You have a good eye, my young, naïve, bumbling, apprentice.” Connie grinned at Daryl’s sigh, “By the way, did that guy getting dragged away by security look familiar to you?”

“No, why?”

“Oh, no reason.”

*****