Love Lost, Chapter 17a: Reservations.
#33 of Love Lost
Love Lost, Chapter 17a: Reservations.
A dismissal bell rang, but Mr. Plovo never seemed to heed it, talking through its tone. "And above all don't forget: if it doesn't burst into flame, dissolve through the table, or make your hair stand on end," he started slapping his desk with a wooden ruler, "it! isn't! science! So, if you think you can get away with vinegar-and-soda volcanoes or mints in cola bottles, I think you can wipe up the mess with your evaluation sheets, since the big red zero I'll write on them will have them worth about as much as a disposable towel. Proposals are due first thing Monday; not end of class, and I'll take a letter for every day you're late. Now clear out, I'm done watching you all contribute to the heat-death of the universe."
Mister Plovo sat an electronic chatot on his desk. It had a motion sensor, ensuring that as the pupils walked by on their way out, the chatot flapped its wings and chanted, "If your projects are boring, you're all gonna fail, raaawk!" Solymar flipped-off the toy as she passed. Its beak nipped at the tip of her finger. "Next time I keep it!" it warned with a whistle.
Miss Foley complained to Joe as they walked down the corridor. "You know, we could've worked out a plan for this project last weekend, except it seems you couldn't resist the call of the pokemon masters."
"Yes, I do know. You've reminded me every day after class this week. You make it sound like a big deal."
"It is a big deal, Rainer. This project is a big chunk of our grades, and that's why I'm going to have to chase you home and make sure you don't sneak off to any more animal abuse sessions until we have a project picked out. At least my half will get done."
Joe stopped at a junction where their paths would diverge. "My half will get done, too. And it's not animal abuse."
"In what way is it not abuse?" Scarlet asked.
Joe noticed that she seemed almost saddened that she had to ask. "Because I was the one who had to get used to pokemon fighting. I guess Burner was kind of born and raised for it, but he does it because he wants to compete. He knows he can stop any time he wants, and he's told me how he does and doesn't want to fight."
"If what they want to do and what you want to do are different things, why don't you let them go?"
Joe thought for a couple seconds, stepping out of the way of senior traffic. "I think that would just hurt their feelings."
Scarlet's expression projected a playful sarcasm, but her tone could not fake that emotion. "Nothing's worse than a pokemon with hurt feelings." She merged with the up-stream flow while Joe worked against it to attend his next class.
Alice awoke to the sound of her alarm clock with a sudden burst of energy. Not because she awoke feeling refreshed and rested, but because of a sense of vacancy. Her aura sensors came to consciousness a fraction of a second before the rest of her mind; a gap just wide enough for their failure to detect a friendly presence nearby to raise a concern. In the past, it would only happen when her Daddy would slip away and make breakfast, and she would feel foolish that for a heartbeat she thought he was gone. Anymore, she felt foolish as she still expected to sense him moments later. On nights when Burner kept her company, she awoke peacefully. His aura was different from Walter's, but both made her feel like she could completely relax. Almost completely.
She rolled out of her bed and straightened its sheets before heading down a dim hallway to open paired doors to what was her favorite feature of the house: its balcony. Great trees grew thick surrounding it, hiding it completely except during winter, and even then it was not conspicuous. Using aluminum foil applied to cardboard as reflectors, light scattered through the habitable storey. It was a wise alternative to opening the street-facing shutters on a regular basis; the neighbors were already talking too much among themselves for her tastes. Alice took a mental note to gift Quentin something small and thoughtful to aid in securing an ally.
Finding herself in her second-most favorite feature, the one bathroom that still had fixtures, local news aired on her wind-up radio while she brushed her teeth and swished her mouthwash. Sixty percent chance for showers. If clouds had auras she might have been more certain, but it was good enough to hope for, even if it was likely to drench her while traveling to work. The chamber enjoyed no running water service, but its many drains drained, and the mirror was only partially corroded and broken out. The bathtub looked like something had died in it, which wasn't far from truth. It now held a row of buckets for water. A little rain would make for an appreciated re-fill, so she gathered them up and set them on the balcony.
As usual, she sneaked out through the cellar hatch and took the least-conspicuous route she could to Rennin Pokecenter. Waiting to be worked-in and checked off as recovered, her aura sense barely had time to warn her before Roscoe forced his way into Alice's mind to bid her a good morning; nearly afternoon, as she had slept in somewhat. His tendency to do that to her was annoying even after she learned that it was non-malicious. The first time scared her out of her wits, when he detected her spying on people in the park. She then accepted his advice to watch over his friends' group, which proved to be among her best decisions since reaching Rennin. But he also suggested that she work at Mrs. Song's parlor. That was something Alice felt mixed about. She was hired on the spot, and she was paid in cash; vitally important for someone who has no legal residence, no bank account, and technically is not legally someone. On the other hand, she worked at Mrs. Song's parlor, which was nothing to be proud of. Nonetheless, here she was, waiting to get a medical clearance so Mrs. Song would let her work with customers again. In her mind she remembered when she called Mrs. Song and sent the digital copy of her post-Ivana health report: Having a crack in her skull repaired with modern technology, no big deal, but a rash? "Why you get itchy? Who give you that? You tell me, I tell Maku to take care of him... ." The old woman had ranted for a long time after that but with words flowing too quickly, and apparently in other languages that Alice's version of the speech T.M. was unprepared for.
Roscoe imposed again as he crossed the lobby a second time, now holding a small bag from the pharmacy. "She takes care of her girls, even the ones who don't offer premium member services. You seemed like someone who needed to be taken care of. That's why I suggested that job, and earlier, suggested that you spar with us."
Alice rose and quickly followed him as he approached the teleportation room. "Roscoe! I guess I should thank you. I don't know what I would have done in the long run if I hadn't met the right people."
Roscoe's head tilted downward ever-so slightly before he grumbled aloud. "Think nothing of it."
Alice's number was called by an attendant as Roscoe vanished with a flash and a rapidly fading glow.
Grace winced after she opened the door for her master and his accompaniment. Scarlet reacted unexpectedly, leaving Grace both somewhat confused and watching Joe being shoved away from the door and taken into a hopefully private conversation.
Scarlet spoke through her teeth with a face nearly as red as her hair. "You have a Psychic-type?"
"Yeah. You didn't know?"
"I knew you had more than one because I heard someone making an inside joke I didn't get about it." Scarlet wiped her brow. "Is it a male or a female?"
"Her name is Grace."
Scarlet pursed her lips for a moment. "Alright, do you know how its ball works?"
"Yes, but I'm not going to put her in it if that's what you're going to ask next. If you have a problem with her, you can go home. I can handle a science project myself."
"No, fine, just tell her to stay out of the way, okay?"
Grace called out from the doorway, "I got the message."
Scarlet maneuvered behind Joe and pointed at the pokemon accusingly. "Stop that! Get out of my head!"
Grace slouched. "I'm not in your head. You're broadcasting your emotions like you want the neighbor's T.V. to pick them up."
Joe stepped aside. "Scarlet, are you okay?"
"Let's get this project worked out."
Grace drifted out of the way as Scarlet stormed inside the house. Joe shrugged and cast Grace a glance as he entered behind his classmate and directed her to the room on her right. The gardevoir moved toward the kitchen, considering the change in terrain. This girl was not the flirt seen in Joe's memory the week before.
Scarlet stepped aside blindly against the bedroom's north wall as Burner paused his game and stood to welcome Joe home. "God, it's even bigger up close."
Joe returned Burner's hug and began an introduction. "Burner, this is Scarlet Foley; she's in my science class and we're going to pick out something to do for a project today. Scarlet, meet Burner."
Burner extended his right arm, and softly cawed, "Ma'am," when she extended hers to be taken up.
"At least you trained him to be polite," she spoke weakly as he sat and continued his game.
Joe slung his backpack onto his bed and opened it. "He wasn't hatched a gentleman, but close."
Scarlet arched an eyebrow as she watched Burner's game character--a very slight and effeminate man with bleached hair and a sword the size of a pick-up truck's tail-gate--slice through the supple body of a succubus with tits each the size of her head. "I wonder what made the difference."
In the kitchen, Grace spun a salt shaker on its lower rim with her mind. She really wanted to force her way in and do something. Anything. She didn't know why, but she wanted that girl out of her house. Part of her conscience reminded her that she was supposed to give people a chance and that Scarlet might not be a bad person after all and they might even be good friends given a chance. Then, a tiny voice inside her head said that it was a horrible idea.
"Why don't you take a hot bath?" Simon was becoming very irritated by his pet. She kept huffing little balls of frost and whining with a musical lilt.
Ivana looked over her shoulder for a moment, then laid her head back down on the rim of a meters-wide, round cushion that she liked to rest upon between flights. Not that she was flying any time soon. Using the service entrance was an embarrassment that she bore for both herself and her master.
"Don't ignore me; use your translator."
With another whine, she gently pecked a tiny button on the machine clipped to her good wing, and as it came on-line, she whined again. "I hate this. Machine man voice is disgusting."
Mister Well made a quick portfolio adjustment before the real-time figure dropped three points. Perfect timing. "You broke your old one, so the prototype will do until your replacement is ready. Now, why don't you take a hot bath? Have Max spoon-feed you a bowl of ice cream with hot fudge and nuts while you watch pornography. Make the most of your down-time, Ivana."
She whined again in an indignant way. "Thrusting his cream isn't flooding my life bucket." The prototype translator suffered difficulties sometimes.
"Good. You're getting what you deserve. Now, quit moping like a spoilt little chick."
"I'm not moping."
Simon bought back into the stock. It started to come around again. "Then not-mope in silence, please."
The stock regained two points before Ivana broke that silence. "I'm sorry."
"You should be. For decades you've been enjoying the lap of luxury that I provide for you for doing nothing more than exhibitions, and when an actual challenge comes up, you throw the fight."
Ivana quickly turned to face him. "I did not choose to lose."
Simon slapped his desk and stood with a little undue effort. "Bullshit, Ivana. You cast down-draft hurricanes over and over and you want me to believe you were trying? Open arena, high ceiling: you could've thrown him and both kuroko into the cheap seats with your first move. Why didn't you?"
"Because I wanted to freeze him. You won't understand."
"I understand."
She rested her head again.
"It was like when you were little. You would fly off and make 'friends' in the forest by freezing any pokemon who wasn't ready to run or fight back, and Cedon would follow after you to warm them up again and bring you back home. You've always over-estimated the quality of your schemes, Ivana."
Her voice was almost too low to be picked up by her translator, "You knew and you didn't punish me?"
"I considered it, but then I thought about why you were doing it."
"I was stupid," she said as she fluffed her feathers and tried to bury herself in her plush pseudo-nest.
"No, you're in love; and with a pokemon who is not attracted to you."
"Story of my life."
Simon left his stock market interface to kneel beside her and stroke her feathers. "I'm sorry; I did what I could, and maybe that failure Hague will pull through for us."
Ivana fluffed up again. "It feels like cheating."
"And that boy's blaziken wouldn't be?"
She seemed to think about it for a moment. "I should have both."
"You're completely incorrigible, Ivana."
"Join me for ice cream with hot fudge and nuts."
Without a stop-loss sell order in place, Simon would eat more than a desert when his stock ultimately lost five points before the close of trading. He would not care a whit about that.
Alice was happy to see the reserve come into view; only a few more blocks to go. Without the smelly house, that was probably where she would have made camp, at least until she got caught. Whenever she remembered the ramification of that possibility, she stopped being happy about seeing the reserve and instead felt happy that a better place was waiting ahead of her.
A place where almost all of her family lived.
Grace met Alice at the door, and they greeted each other with a wordless hug. Since both had defensively-weaponized torsos, it was awkward the first couple times, but with Grace's being larger and duller than Alice's, it became quite natural once they worked out an appropriate angle and offset. Grace's body always felt warm, but she was a little cooler this day than her usual. Alice concentrated upon a message so it would adsorb upon Grace's antennae.
"It's nothing," Alice heard as Grace opened a telepathic channel.
Obviously it was something.
"No, really," Grace insisted. "Okay, we'll talk later," she whispered, "take care of your business." That was more like it.
Alice showed herself to the bathroom, shut the door behind herself, and shook a small dish of potpourri that rested on a shelf. Its presence resulted from a recent vote--bathroom: scented or un-scented. The vote followed strict gender lines, and Marianne appeared in order to force a tie soon broken by a coin flip in the girls' favor. Scented won. With their victory came the responsibility of selecting a flavor, which became an argument that the boys felt to be a touch of karmic balance. After disagreeing with every suggestion that Grace and Alice could think of, Marianne admitted that she only wanted to see the boys lose and did not care insofar as it be a natural product, asserting that her senses worked differently: she smelled what they could not see, tasted what they smelled, and "knew" things that they felt. To her, artificial scent agents tasted like socks, and she was willing to share that sensation with anyone who brought in "laboratory waste jar residue." Marianne refused to explain why she cared what the bathroom tasted like.
If only she could, Alice would stand beneath that shower head for hours. Alas, the last thing she wanted to do was to make a noticeable impact on the Rainier's water invoice. The head's pulsation feature penetrated her coat quite well, which was sometimes bothersome, even when she was small. Mostly the problem with bath time was time. Walter would become anxious when they were indisposed after things got bad. He figured that would likely be the moment someone would make an attempt on them. Alice's small paws struggled with soaps and shampoos, but if he did the work for her, she had to monitor for any advancing dark auras. He never meant to hurt her feelings, and he never truly did, but she understood his underlying emotion when he would comment that it would be advantageous if she would hurry up and evolve; to increase her sense's range and focus, to make easier her use of motel washroom facilities without his aid, and to be stronger if something did happen. Nothing ever did, but her extra sense still activated on its own when she bathed. She sensed Burner nearest, Joe a little further away, and a third aura near them. Unfamiliar; maybe the neighbor boy was visiting? It did not feel like him, however. Alice concentrated. Grace was sitting pensively in the kitchen. There were no shadows, though, so Marianne was not in the house.
Alice finished washing herself and toweled off from dripping-wet to generally soggy. She made another mental note: A hair dryer attachment would be a worthwhile investment, as the stock blunt end was nearly worthless around her shoulders' and legs' thickened accents. As dry as she could reasonably get, she exited the bathroom intending to visit Burner and Joe, but felt herself being pulled away by her shoulder. Alice followed the insisting force's lead until she sat at the kitchen table. Grace's aura looked sort of sticky to her, if that made any sense.
The gardevoir spoke at a level slightly above a whisper. "That was rude. I shouldn't use my power on you like that. Forgive me; but I don't think you should go in there."
Alice asked again what was wrong.
"Joe's science class partner is in there. They're working on a project. She doesn't want them to be interrupted."
Alice canted her head. "B's in there, though."
"He's keeping to himself with one of the video games. Apparently that's acceptable pokemon behavior."
Grace's aura showed frustration. Alice was not sure what was going on, but she was not going to let her kid sister be bullied, which is what it sounded like to her. Grace gently tugged at Alice's shoulder telekinetically as the lucario left the table, but did not intervene further.
"Another one?" the stranger griped when Alice walked in, leaned over an array of scattered papers and handouts, and gave Joe a peck on the cheek before kneeling beside Burner and giving him a crushing hug.
Joe was enchanted by his digital textbook pad but managed another introduction. "Scarlet, this is Alice. She's not mine, but she is ours. Alice, meet Scarlet Foley."
Alice twisted to face Scarlet, but Scarlet was already turning her attention back to the paperwork and started writing something in her notebook.
A moment later, Scarlet muttered, "Two fighting types. That's an unnecessary weakness. Are you sure you're a trainer?"
Alice leaned against Burner, pushing him just enough to disrupt his game-play.
Joe dismissed the criticism. "I'm not putting together a League team. I told you, they're my friends first. That, and the sake of your grade, is why you said you would speak to me again for the time being, remember?"
Soon, Grace appeared in the doorway. Scarlet reacted immediately, "I can't concentrate with all these interruptions. Won't you please put them in their balls?"
Something happened; a wordless exchange between Joe and Grace. Alice's sensors splayed, responding to a strong shift in local aura flux. She looked at Grace and sprang to her feet. "Okay, you're right, Grace: I've said my hellos; it's time for your baking lesson." Alice approached Grace and gently pushed her out of the room.
Once they were out of sight, they heard Scarlet again, "Baking? I guess that would make a gardevoir good for something respectable. But you really shouldn't have one of those like you do. Even if she is a shiny and you want to show off, people are going to assume..."
Alice distracted Grace with tasks around the kitchen, as this seemed like a situation calling for the universal panacea: fresh-baked cookies. They would serve her plan for Quentin, too, and the opportunity to bake there seemed right, since the smelly house's oven was likely a fire hazard if it even functioned. It was likely somehow a fire hazard just sitting idle. Grace acted with haste and sloppiness when Alice asked her to gather supplies, slamming cabinet doors and letting things skate across the counter-tops. She sensed when Alice decided to grasp her, but failed to evade completely.
"Grace, be nice. I got a good read on her aura while I was in there. Deep down, she's apprehensive."
Grace scowled incredulously. "I got a good read on her thoughts; she sees us as low animals that can be stored conveniently when they would become inconvenient to have around, taking up space and breathing all the air in the room."
"I can't read what she's thinking consciously like you can, but without being invited to look or forcing your way in, you can't read what's happening in her soul like I can. I know that whatever she has been saying to you, pokemon make her a little nervous in her gut."
"And how do you know that? Was her aura quaking in its boots when I came in to ask if they wanted me to bend over backwards and bring them some drinks?"
Alice took Grace by both of her hands. "I know because Daddy was apprehensive too."
Grace's demeanor shifted immediately, and Alice re-took her seat at the table.
"Our first day together was okay, but he didn't really know what I was. At the end of the first week, he understood that I was developing my ability to speak with every word I heard him say. He started realizing that between my body shape, typing, and speech T.M., he had done something more like adopting a child than picking up a trained guard dog that can stand on two feet like he expected. He tried to hide it, but he got worried that he was in over his head, and when he learned more about what a lucario can do with its powers, he got scared. His aura changed. Her aura is tainted too. She's afraid of our abilities."
Grace was not particularly interested in Scarlet's condition anymore. "He was scared of you?"
"Not of me, but of what I could be. I understand now that he lost his confidence and second-guessed his decision, but at the time, I really only understood that he was withdrawing from me and I started feeling alone even though we were together; like sharing a park bench with a stranger. But he got better."
Grace got a couple glasses and poured lemonade for herself and her mutual confidant. "You hit him with that little riolu charm?"
"Not exactly; but I fixed him. It was kind of an accident. He was looking at a calendar and I asked about it. He explained how each square is a day and all that stuff. I remembered seeing a calendar in my father's house soon after I hatched; passed days were struck out, so we found that page on Daddy's calendar and he counted how long it was since that day and when he got me. Because he had owned me for a few days longer than I was with my father, I asked him if that meant he was going to be my daddy now. He said, 'Yes.' Then I asked him if he would go away like my first father did, and he said he wouldn't."
Grace choked up as she swallowed; feeling Alice's emotion as a precursor to her body's reaction. Tears welled in the lucario's eyes and she slowly covered them while lowering her head until it met with the table.
Ford stood on the porch of a general goods store. He was not allowed inside, but since he was not involved in the Pokemon League and performed an important role for the community, nobody gave him any real trouble, and a few residents of Yureido Cove greeted him warmly as they passed. The truck he waited for arrived on-time; its driver was good about keeping a schedule and rarely deviated from his patterns. "Good afternoon, Mr. Chambers," said the dragonite as he approached the truck with a large bag over his shoulder.
The driver hopped out and put his hat on as though he felt naked without it. "Good morning, Ford. Just because you get up too damned early doesn't mean you need to rub it in around us lazy bones." Mister Chambers opened the back and crawled inside, around a piece of exercise equipment whose design shouted late-night infomercial impulse buy and a small pallet of bricks and mortar mix. "Here's this half-week's toil for you."
They exchanged Ford's bag for one that looked much the same.
"Toil? Call it a stereotype, but postal work is a dream job for a dragonite. That's why we're the mascot on the emblem."
Chambers secured Ford's bag and hopped out of the truck. "Whatever you say, but don't you get tired of asking people if they need stamps all the time?"
Ford looked around to be sure no one was within earshot and leaned close. "Are you kidding? Once in a while one of the mine widows is looking for a little help getting her stamps licked."
Chambers elbowed Ford. "Get out of here."
"Hey, they know that the postdragon always rings their bell twice."
"Recently?" Chambers asked.
Ford shrugged a little. "Not recently, actually."
"You know, I've got a girl about your size you might like to meet. She used to have a thing for one of my guys but they had a fight over somethin' and now they won't look at each other. He's my only one that can talk and he won't talk about it, so I'm thinkin' whatever it is, they're probably splits for good. Anyway, I like lettin' them horse around in the evenings, but she keeps sneaking off to have a little fun by herself, 'bout as often as she and he were sneaking off to have fun together. Whenever she's not, she's looking pretty damn depressed when she's not putting on a show for the other one. I think it'd do her good to meet a different male in her weight class. Of course, everyone living up here like their privacy and peace and quiet, and I'm no exception, but I wouldn't mind you coming around one day a week for a call more social than to drop off junk labeled 'Resident' for me to pitch into my fireplace. If you two were to hit it off, I'm sure we could work something out. She's not in your group, and I got her on the prophy shot anyway, so there's no risk of consequence. Course, if you are lookin' to make some eggs someday, I guess that might be a deal breaker."
Ford was visibly embarrassed. "I appreciate your concern for both her and my, ahem, well-being, but right now I've kinda got a crush on someone. I don't know how she feels about me; I'm getting mixed signals. But, I think I want to see where that's going to go. I guess if it goes nowhere I'll ask if your two got together again."
The driver shut and locked his truck's rear door. "Okay, but I hope you're not missing a big opportunity here. She's a favorite of mine: strong, dependable, got a big heart. If she were a human," Chambers held an innuendo-laden grin until Ford fidgeted, "Hell, at least tell me what species you're passing her up for."
Ford looked around to be sure no one was within earshot and leaned close enough to whisper, covering the side of his mouth with a paw.
Mister Chambers' jaw fell slack. "What the fuck are you doing associating with trash like one of those?"
The dragonite was visibly shamed and insulted as he looked at Mr. Chambers with eyes that burned with rage but begged for forgiveness.
"Ah, shit!" He removed his hat and kicked his truck's tire, staring away for a couple seconds while regaining his composure. "Ford, I didn't mean that like that. But every dealing I've ever had with one of those little gremlins has been god-awful, and the few that get bigger cause even more trouble. I damn sure hope if you're getting involved with one it's a rare good one and that she don't have any family that's going to come hanging around. I don't want to see you hurting 'cause of a bad decision. We go back too far for that."
Ford hefted his sack. "I have to get this sorted and make my village rounds."
"Dammit," Chambers shouted, "I said I was sorry."
The dragonite ignored him and went into a small building that served as a mail office on two days each week. Climbing inside his truck and jamming a key into its ignition, Chambers grumbled, "It's going to be one of those nights, tonight. And if he gets hurt, she gets hurt."