Every reporter and aspiring reporter would be posting about Nidorino’s evolution into Nidoking for the foreseeable future. Nobody had hard numbers, but estimates were coming in that indicated Nidoking stood at seven feet tall — almost twice the size of an average Nidoking. Only the true trolls of the internet would be doubting Blake’s training style going forward.
Quinn loved every kind of sport, but like most of Vorunda, his favorite was the Pokemon League. He never missed a playoff match and tried to watch most of the 8-badge matches throughout the year. Quinn didn’t even want to know how many hours he had spent on online forums browsing everything from mundane facts about farm Pokemon to claimed accounts of mythical Pokemon. If passion was the only thing you needed to enter the Pokemon League, Quinn would have been challenging the gym circuit every year. However, the hard facts were that it was just too expensive for him to even try. Feeding and housing a team, training at gyms, challenging gyms, Pokemon center visits, and even buying Pokeballs required a significant investment. And a trainer couldn’t make money until they had at least a couple of badges and could do well in local tournaments. He never told his mom, but Quinn’s hopes of being a trainer were snuffed out at 16. All extracurriculars fell by the wayside so that he could spend as much time as possible bussing tables to help pay the medical bills.
Not wanting to get into a funk of regret, Quinn thought about all the reasons it wouldn’t have worked besides money. Phanpy was certainly talented, but he was a lover — not a fighter. Quinn didn’t think all the ear scratches in the world would get Phanpy to [Rollout] into anything other than a Caterpie. He also wasn’t kidding himself thinking that his online trivia knowledge would translate to the battlefield. Strategy, tactics, and the ability to think on the fly were all skills that Quinn had no experience with and any valuable knowledge was hoarded as trade secrets of top trainers. The “what if” would always nag at Quinn, but he was happy with his life and choices. His mom and Phanpy were always most important to him and they always would be.
A wet towel hit Quinn in the side of the head, bringing him back to reality. It half-covered his blank stare of a CharFuel energy drink commercial that featured a Charizard going supersonic through the air after taking a sip. “Phanpy, it took me a whole Friday night to put that towel hook in for you. Please use it,” Quinn balled up the towel and threw it back to a grinning Phanpy who caught the towel and hung it up.
Phanpy then went to the fridge, opened up the door, and fiddled around in the right bottom drawer. Quinn kept fruits in the right drawer and vegetables in the left drawer, both of which Phanpy would snack on to supplement his diet of grass, leaves, and dandelions. After grabbing an apple, Phanpy strolled over to the couch and readied a jump up next to Quinn. Quinn grabbed the mail which was in Phanpy’s landing zone and placed it on the coffee table next to his untouched soda can and granola bar.
Looking at the open letter again, anxiety washed over Quinn stronger than it did the first time he opened it. Phanpy, sensing something was wrong, snuggled up to Quinn’s side and grabbed his hand in his trunk. “It's okay bud, just found out who my deadbeat dad is.”
Phanpy’s eyes got wide at the news and he looked back with question marks all across his face. “I don’t know much, but it looks like the suit that Mrs. Garcia saw is either going to take us for a ride or tell us what mom always avoided.”
Lucy never once told Quinn who his father was. Whenever he would ask, she would only describe him using a series of expletives that would even get a double-take from Quinn’s foul-mouthed coworkers. Lucy would tell Quinn he was a loser who didn’t want anything to do with them and they didn’t want anything to do with him. At first, these answers were enough to shut down any more questions from Quinn. But kids were cruel, and not knowing who your dad was painted a big bullseye on your back. Quinn resented his mom more and more for not telling him, and when that resentment boiled over, it resulted in some huge fights.
Eventually, Quinn noticed that he could use humor to shield him from his peers, telling them that his dad was someone ridiculous. Goofy-looking celebrities, fictional heroes, hated teachers, and anyone else that would get a laugh. He would then steer the conversation to something interesting about the person he just claimed was his dad. The running joke then became who could think up the funniest dad for Quinn. The teasing stopped, and so did the fights. The older he got, the more he agreed with his mom — why would he even want to know the name of a loser that kicked his wonderful mom to the side?
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In Lucy’s final weeks, Quinn could tell that she was struggling with the idea of finally revealing who his father was. But he didn’t let her choose. Quinn told his mom that if she needed no man, then he needed no man. The visible relief that washed over Lucy’s whole body was evidence that he had made the right choice.
Petting Phanpy with his right hand, Quinn took the letter off the pile of mail with his left. “I'll read the letter out loud, so we can find out together. Can’t be worse than getting carpet bombed by a Pidove,” Quinn joked in a half-hearted attempt to break the tension.
Dear Quinn Gray,
My name is Amanda Ward and I work for the city of Havenwood as a court-appointed executor. My job is to manage any estates for the citizens of Havenwood that die without a will in place. You may or may not know this, but Paul Royal, your biological father, has recently passed away.
Around six months ago, Paul went missing. His body was found in Havenwood Bay five months later by some local fisherman. As of right now, there are not a lot of answers about what happened, but the police ruled it an accidental drowning and closed the case. The closed-casket funeral took place three weeks ago and Paul was buried in Havenwood City Cemetery. While his mother, Mabel Royal, did her best to coordinate the funeral, I was brought in to manage the inheritance of his estate.
Originally this was thought to be a simple situation with everything going to Mabel, due to Paul having no other kin. However, when I met with Mabel, she revealed that Paul had a baby with your mother, Lucy Gray. Included with this letter is a letter from Mabel which should offer some more context.
At the bottom of this letter, you will find my email address and phone number. I'll need to talk to you, even if you think that Mabel is mistaken. If there's any chance that you're the biological son of Paul, then we will need to coordinate a paternity test to verify.
Please do not delay calling me. Paul’s estate has been sitting for six months and actions to preserve what he left need to be taken.
Amanda Ward
Professional Executor
Havenwood City Courts
While Quinn tried to wrap his brain around the situation, Phanpy used his trunk to grab the royal blue envelope that was from Mabel. “You’re right, Phanpy. Let’s get as much information as possible before trying to unpack what it all means.”
Opening up the blue envelope like he did the white envelope, Quinn shook the contents out onto his lap. What Quinn presumed was another letter fell out with one grainy picture landing right side up. Phanpy trumpeted so loud that it made Quinn jump in his seat.
“Phanpy, settle down! I can barely see around your big head...” Quinn trailed off as he craned his neck to see the picture that had provoked Phanpy.
In the picture, Quinn saw a younger version of his mom, probably in her twenties, smiling and standing on a rocky beach with the ocean behind her and her arm around the waist of a man. However, what looked like a normal picture was actually the opposite because the man in the picture was Quinn. Well, it was Quinn if he shaved his head.
Quinn blinked and rubbed his eyes before getting a closer look to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. A man stood there with Quinn’s bright blue eyes, broad shoulders, long arms, and a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. After looking a little closer, Quinn could see a tattoo on his right bicep that was partially covered by his sleeve and a mole on his right cheek that Quinn didn’t have. But besides the hair and those smaller differences, even Quinn was struggling to accept that the man wasn’t him.
Turning the picture over, Quinn saw "Paul and Lucy, April ‘34" written on the bottom left corner.
“Phanpy. If this description is accurate, that means that this is a picture of Mom and Paul 23 years ago. That was a little over a year before I was born,” Quinn explained the context for himself as much as for Phanpy.
Phanpy then grabbed Quinn’s hand and turned it back around to get another look at Paul and Lucy. As Phanpy studied the picture again, Quinn’s shock was slowly replaced by a growing anger that forced his thoughts out of his mouth: “Why do I have to look just like him?”