Phanpy, unsure of how to respond to Quinn’s newfound anger, opened up the letter to shift his attention. Like most Pokemon, Phanpy couldn't read, so he hit the paper lightly with his trunk to tell him to start reading. Quinn’s curiosity beat out his anger, and he read the second letter out loud.
Dear Quinn,
I'm unsure if Lucy ever let you know who I am, but my name is Mabel, and my son, Paul, is your father. Amanda assured me that she'd be providing context about Paul’s death and other important matters to you before you read this letter. So my letter will be about how I know that you're Paul’s son.
Before Paul’s disappearance last year, he visited my home late one night in an inebriated state. Paul had been in a bad place for a while and had often turned to substances for an escape. He was pounding on my front door begging me to let him in. However, this had become a common occurrence, and letting him in only ever led to Paul getting violent and trashing my house. That night was the first time that I drew the line and didn’t open the door. I told him that I'd call the cops if he tried to get in. This news must have broken him as he slumped down against the door and began to weep. It took all my willpower to keep that door closed, but I couldn’t bring myself to walk away, so I stood there in silence as my only son cried.
In between his sobbing, Paul talked to the night about how everyone was out to get him and how he was cursed with bad luck. I can’t remember everything he said, nor did it matter. Paul had dug his own holes that he couldn’t get out of. What did matter was when he started talking about Lucy. I knew the Lucy he was talking about was Lucy Gray, the longest relationship Paul ever had. I won’t go into details about what he said, but he did reference a child that they had together.
Eventually, Paul left my porch and I was utterly shocked. Neither my husband nor I had ever heard of Paul fathering a child, and I had to know who it was. I spent the rest of the night trying to find anything I could. Lucy’s parents lived in Havenwood too, and I knew they had died sometime in the late 30s or early 40s, but looking through the phonebook, I couldn’t find any “Lucy Gray.”
I then made a list of anyone I thought might know the Gray family better than me. That next day, I called everyone on that list. Some people knew that Lucy had a boy and that she'd moved out of Havenwood after her parents’ tragic death, but I was losing hope that I'd be able to track her down. Until one person told me that the last they heard, Lucy was living in Ashford. With that information and help from our local librarian, I was able to find Lucy’s obituary online.
Quinn, I can’t imagine the pain of losing your mother so young. Lucy was a shining beacon in Paul’s life, and I wish things could have been better between those two.
Your name was referenced in Lucy’s obituary and a search pulled up a profile picture of you and Phanpy. At that moment, I knew that you were Paul’s son. The likeness was unmistakable, and your age matched up too well with Lucy and Paul’s breakup for it to be a coincidence.
I wrestled for some time with the idea of letting you know who your father was. But with Paul’s life in the disarray that it was, I didn’t know if it would be a good thing to bring him into your life. In the end, I took too long to decide and Paul went missing.
I was able to find a picture of Paul and Lucy together that was taken near the end of their relationship. I've included it with this letter. Amanda tells me a paternity test is required before we can move forward, but I hope this picture and this letter can give you some assurance it is not all a waste of time.
— Mabel Royal
Throughout the reading of the letter, Quinn’s breaths had gotten heavier and heavier as he struggled to finish reading. Halfway through the letter, Phanpy had put his trunk on his shoulder and had stared up at Quinn with worried eyes. Not even a second after reading the name Royal, he stood up abruptly, knocking Phanpy off balance onto his back.
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“Phanpy, I gotta get out of here. I'll be back.”
Quinn moved quickly to the door. Ignoring the pain in his foot, he slammed on his tennis shoes that lay next to the door, not caring about socks or damaging the stiff backs of the shoes.
Phanpy cried out for his trainer to wait for him, but the door closed before he could get off his back. Quinn took the stairs as quickly as he could, heavily leaning on the railing.
How long has Mabel known about me? Why didn’t she reach out earlier? Why didn’t Mom tell me about her? He didn’t pause to think of potential answers. Why didn’t she confront Paul about me? Why did she need Paul in order to want a relationship with me? Quinn hobbled onto the sidewalk and to the forest a couple of blocks away, sweat starting to bead on his forehead.
Why did this have to happen now? Why couldn’t Mom be here? Why didn’t she ever warn me? He longed for his mom. Did Mom like Mabel? Is Mabel like Paul? Is Mabel’s story completely true? Quinn, feeling claustrophobic even in the open air, picked up his pace as dusk set in.
His thoughts turned vocal. “Why was Paul such a loser? How could Mom ever be with someone like him? Why did he have to die before I could show him we didn’t need him?” Quinn’s anger completely eclipsed his pain and he broke out into a sprint. “Why do I look like him? Why do I look like him? Why do I look like him!” He screamed, still 50 yards away from the tree line.
Quinn screamed out more questions as he entered the forest. He repeated the same questions over and over again until he gave up on asking and just screamed.
There were no tears in Quinn’s eyes as this was not a time for sadness or shame. Only rage filled his heart as 22 years of resentment came rushing out. He screamed for the years of bullying. He screamed for the mom who had to figure it out alone. He screamed for the mom who died with only a boy and his elephant to comfort her. He screamed for the dark nights that came with even darker thoughts in her absence.
Quinn’s voice eventually gave out, so he resorted to banging his fists on a tall pine tree. The Pokemon of the forest had given him a wide berth for his tantrum, but a Spinarak called the pine tree home and didn’t appreciate the evening disturbance. In a flash, three [Pin Missiles] hit Quinn in the neck and shoulder. He cursed as he reached to his neck. Unaware of his assailant, he looked up to see the Spinarak getting ready to fire another set of [Pin Missiles].
He backed away quickly until an outcropping of boulders broke the line of sight between him and the Spinarak. In relative safety, he finally noticed how much pain his body was in. His throat was raw, his hands were cut up, his legs ached, his foot throbbed, and the needles in his neck and shoulder stabbed whenever he shifted. He gingerly pulled them out, thankful they didn’t have barbs, and sat down against a boulder.
Quinn’s energy and rage were gone, and all that was left was the regret of leaving Phanpy. He was going through similar emotions and instead of working through it together, Quinn had turned into the world’s most selfish prick. Taking a couple of minutes to get some of his energy back, he got up and walked back to his apartment on a foot that hurt more than it had all day. He could feel the blood that had seeped out of his reopened wound and kicked himself for not even grabbing socks before his escapade.
It took him at least three times longer to get back to his apartment than it did for him to get to the forest. When he opened the door, Quinn didn’t see any sign of Phanpy.
“Phanpy! Where are you?”
When no response came, he hustled to the bedroom and scanned all the rooms along the way. Opening his bedroom door, he could see a Phanpy-sized lump under the covers of his bed. Quinn, seeing Phanpy hadn’t stupidly run off like he had, breathed out a sigh of relief and sat on the edge of the bed.
“Hey bud, I screwed up. I'm a dirtball for leaving you here while I threw a tantrum,” he paused, hoping to hear a response from Phanpy. “No excuses. I was selfish and you deserved better. You’re the only one who knows what I’m feeling, and I hope you can forgive me,” he continued. “If you want me to go away, don’t say anything. If you want me to stay, any response will do.”
The covers shifted as Phanpy slowly lifted them off himself. He bitterly stared at Quinn with tears still falling down his face. Without making a sound, Phanpy lifted his trunk and blasted Quinn in the face. Water got up Quinn’s nose and it stung more than Spinarak’s needles.
Quinn let it sting, not reacting at all to the [Water Gun] other than reflexively closing his eyes. When he opened his eyes, he saw Phanpy looking at his new wounds with concern. However, the look quickly went away and Phanpy huffed to tell Quinn that he deserved it.
He nodded in agreement and reached out his arms, inviting Phanpy into a hug. Phanpy immediately relented and the two hugged until they fell asleep on the bed that supposedly had a one-person occupancy.