Love Lost, Chapter 19a: Cleavages.
#37 of Love Lost
Love Lost, Chapter 19a: Cleavages.
Daniel placed a few boxes of berry juice on his coffee table. "Sorry it's kid sized, but little boxes are good for coolers on expeditions so we buy it in bulk."
Grace thanked him for his hospitality, punctured one through its foil seal, and took a sip. Daniel also poured some shelled sunflower seeds for a chatot perched near Grace.
"Did you and Tutti have a good conversation? He'll talk your ears off if you'll let him." Dan regretted his choice of words. "Uh, if you have ears. I don't know..."
Grace smiled softly. "It's fine. Calm down. You're so worked up I can't help but feel your panic."
Daniel sat with inappropriate force, as though the seat were an inch or two lower than his ass expected it to be. "It's just that, I wasn't ready for--"
"Let me," Grace interjected with a perky slyness in her voice: "For a beautiful gardevoir to knock on your door and ask if there was a pokecenter nearby where she could stay. For admitting that it's completely on the other side of the island but that you would offer to put her up for the night. For getting really nervous and spending way too long in the kitchen trying to sort things out while your friend here told me everything about all your fantasies that you thought nobody else knew about. Really, Daniel, considering what you watch when you think you're alone, you should be familiar enough with my anatomy to know if these are ears or not. But, I guess that indicates which parts of the performances you've been paying the most attention to." She took another sip, pleased with herself as Daniel froze, flushed. After a few seconds she let him off the hook. "I'll tell you a secret: whatever parts of my species interest you most, if you ever get lucky enough to get lucky with a girl like me--although it won't be me--these gills are the part you should show the most interest in. Get what I'm saying?"
"Yeah, I think."
"Good." Grace supped from her carton until it gurgled, gasped, and collapsed, exhausted. "Now, I'm going to ask Tutti to tell me a bedtime story, and you need to get back to work so the professor won't give you hell, right?"
"You really are a mind-reader," Daniel admitted with a slight hint of delight.
Grace pierced another carton. "You know what? I've never done this before. I've always kept myself out, because depending on who it was it would either make them angry or uncomfortable or it would just be weird for them. But, tonight I just didn't really care and, yeah, I've been reading you. First I did it to make sure I wasn't approaching a creep for help. But after that, I did it because I can, and, I don't know... it makes me feel... lighter. I like it. Have I been as rude as I have been inconsiderate, or do people expect this from Psychic-types?"
"No. I mean, yeah, but, I'm not mad. I'm embarrassed and uncomfortable, but that's not your fault. I couldn't be mad, since, I've always imagined living with... that. Other people, though, I know some avoid Psychics because of that." Daniel sighed. "God, you must think I'm a weirdo."
In a flash, Grace teleported beside him. "Don't be embarrassed about what your friend told me and what I can see inside your thoughts now that you're remembering all the dirty pictures and movies you've seen. I like knowing that a man can look at my pale gray skin, always-in-the-way horns, weird hair, waist curtain, kinda-gnarly fingers, flat butt, flat chest, missing no..."
Dan stole a kiss. Grace gently pushed him away; after a few seconds.
"...and want to do that with her."
Daniel blushed so brightly his skin seemed to glow. "Oh, God, I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me."
"I do." Grace's voice was perky again. "I confused your self-control for a moment to see what would happen."
"But, still..."
She leaned against him. "How did I compare to that gardevoir of your dreams?"
"It was--"
Grace swiftly touched his right temple with one kinda-gnarly finger.
"You were," he twitched, "incomparable."
Grace smiled faintly. "I hope my... master," she admitted with a sigh, "finds me incomparable, too."
Crestfallen, but not surprised, Daniel put on a brave face. "If he doesn't, he's a fool for not seeing how lucky he is to know you."
"Oh, he's worse than a fool. He's a high school freshman boy with a red-head temptress for a lab partner." Grace huffed and returned to the opposing seat with another flash. "From what I've seen on T.V., even though I have home court advantage, that's a tough match-up." She lazily brought her juice box and straw to her lips and sucked it dry.
"Are you going to fight for him?"
Grace shuddered. "I have to. If the consequences are going to be what I believe they'll be--." She did not need to finish her sentence, so she tried another one. "What about you? You live on an island all alone and you seem to know what type of girls you like. Why haven't you gone to a pokecenter on the mainland and checked the listings? There's gotta be a gardevoir girl out there somewhere. Maybe her owner's getting out of the league and can't keep taking care of everybody, or she wants to get away from all those annoying people who look at her and think hurtful thoughts. She likes going for long walks on remote beaches beneath the stars and wants nothing more than to start a new life with someone she can look into and see that she can give him all of her faith."
"Well, that's the thing. I know that's not what she would see. She would see some guy who spent his most-virile years studying history and reading about how to figure out the age of broken pottery. She'd see the kind of guy who would see her for the first time and think: 'Wow, I've finally bought a slave that matches my sexual fantasies, time to take her home and train her to be a good wife.' God, that's terrible."
Having intended to provoke a response but certainly not that one, Grace stood, and compelled Daniel to stand, too, as she approached. "It would be terrible--absolutely frightening--for a gardevoir to meet a new trainer and see that in him. But, she wouldn't see that in you. She would see your fear of her seeing that. You're thinking of it like a human does, worried about what others think because your species can't see and never honestly tell. For a gardevoir, getting to know somebody is about feeling how they feel and how they react to their own feelings. The first time you opened that ball, and she felt what I felt when you admitted your worry, she would know that you were ashamed of yourself because you honestly did not want her to feel terrified that you were going to abuse her for your own pleasure, and why you thought that she would. That means she would also know that inside you," she poked his chest, "stronger than your desire to make love to a gardevoir, is a desire to earn the love of a gardevoir."
Daniel swallowed hard once Grace removed her poking digit. "But, do you think that I could earn it?"
"Maybe, someday, if you find the right one and know how to make a good impression. Begin by spending those midnight hours learning about what really matters to us, instead of about what kind of unique positions levitation allows."
"Good idea."
Grace took his hand with one of her own, and placed the other on his temple. "I can't say this with words without it sounding like an insult, so this way you'll feel how I mean it." She closed her eyes. "I've seen what has happened to a lot of gardevoirs; they all deserved at least somebody like you. Even if you deserve to feel the way you do about yourself, you wouldn't hurt us."
Their increasing synchronization became uncomfortable for both for different, but shared, reasons.
Daniel opened their eyes and pulled her hand away. "I--I should be getting back to work before it's too late. Thank you, Grace. Uh, goodnight. Ma'am."
For a while, Grace lounged about, helping herself to the last juice box and flipping through a book on Danny's coffee table. It was a collection of quotations, proverbs, and idioms. At first she found it curious that a book of such random stuff would be interesting, but once she realized that she could look up things that her speech T.M. either could not explain or phrases whose meanings did not match the words that made them up, an hour passed before she felt properly tired and set it down.
Grace adjusted couch cushions to make for suitable bedding and listened to Tutti recall in his species' tradition the story of the first man's arrival to Hollingsmoth Island. It had its own unique flair as he told it. She also kept tabs on Daniel's mindset as he finished his tasks, and when he went to sleep, she chose to give him a little thank-you for being a considerate host who did not let his mind wander into visions of him fulfilling his carnal desires with a mental manifestation of his dream garde-girl's behavior applied to Grace's bodily image as one fresh in his memory. She projected into him a sampling of the joys she had felt by spending time with Joe. Whether a gardevoir lover was in his future or otherwise, she wanted him to know what kind of light his love and companionship could bring into someone's, anyone's, life.
Grace began awakening when she felt something stiff but yielding pressing against her thigh. She shifted a little.
Daniel began awakening when he felt something hard and firm pressing against his xyphoid process. He yelped and fussed, rolling over a little, over the edge of his bed.
Grace sensed motion and thoughtlessly activated one of her powers. "Careful, Joe, falling out of bed hurts." She leaned up and tossed her head to re-arrange her hair, which had settled over her eyes as though she were two sizes smaller. Then, she recognized that it was not Joe whom she suspended a few feet above the floor. She clambered out of the bed and then pulled him back over it so she could release her telekinetic hold safely. "Daniel... I'm... sorry, I guess I got lonely. I usually sleep with him, beside him, uh, you know, I mean, not, you know you know, uh--"
Daniel cracked a smile.
Grace blushed and threw a pillow at him. "Stop thinking I'm cute when I'm blushing and can't get my words out! That speech thing helps me say my thoughts, but my thoughts start as feelings so it gets messed up sometimes." She floated around the foot of the bed as he removed the pillow. He was still smiling. She huffed and turned to her left to oppose him.
Her reflection stood before her inside a full-body mirror. Her reflection was not wearing a dress befitting fine dining, but if she were wearing right now the dress that Ivana's money paid for, her reflection would look just like--.
Dan grunted a little, rolling out of bed again but with greater coordination this time. "I think I'll take a shower. I usually do cereal and toaster pastry for breakfast, but if you want something closer to the complete breakfast they show on commercials, my kitchen's yours."
Grace muttered an affirmative sound that was not a word of human language, and Daniel repaired to his bathroom.
Dried and dressed, he was met with a generous spread. Dan felt her inviting him to be seated, and presented him with a stack of three pancakes. "Thank you, Grace," he said uncomfortably.
"Think nothing of it." She said as she sat opposite with a meal of her own.
He began glancing around, then watched with awe as she brought the syrup over from across the kitchenette with a gentle gesture of her left hand. "Think nothing of that, either."
"You really are amazing."
Grace's mouth was full, so she projected rather than vocalized, "Do you mean 'you' as in me, personally, or 'you' as in gardevoir in general?"
"Uh, well, both. Seeing and feeling your powers is amazing. It's like finding out a story you always heard but never really believed was really true after all. But, all that aside, you, Grace, are an amazing and wonderful person, and--whoa... what... what was that?"
Grace swallowed and looked at him with a both euphoric and dysphoric expression. "That's what it feels like when something like me hears somebody like you address her as a person, without even a slightest equivocation in his mind about using the word, as though I really were a human."
They ate in silence for a little while. He acquired additional butter without her aid. "Is that why you ran away? He equivo... equivocated?" Daniel asked. Grace palmed her jaw and faced away slightly. "I'm not a psychologist, obviously. But, archaeology does mean putting two and two together sometimes. You jumped into my bed some time during the night, and when you woke up, you thought you were with him. Your heart knows where it wants to be and hasn't given up on him, even if he made a mistake."
"I'm afraid."
"Afraid of those consequences you didn't want to talk about?"
"It's more than that. I mean, if that was going to happen, I could run. It'd be hard, but I could if I had to. But, I'm afraid of what would happen to me afterward. Deep inside me, I have a fear of something, but I don't know what it is. It's like a dark shadowy thing, lurking near the horizon, waiting to get me. And, I'm also afraid of simply being alone. I've never been alone. I have a si... very good friend, and I've learned a little from her, because she lost her entire family. I don't ever want to be alone. I've been inside her mind and I have no idea how she bears it as well as she does. It's like, she'll break down for about a minute and a half, and then she's fine again. I guess part of it is because of what I am, but there's no way I can let it out and turn it off like that."
Daniel wiped his mouth and cleared their plates. As Grace stood, he took her into a hug. "Grace. Go home and make sure that young man understands before he does any stupid teenager things."
"But, what if he doesn't. He can't understand, truly, what it's like for a gardevoir. And, she is a human like he is. Even if not Scarlet, it's natural for him to want a human girl. I can't make him give up a normal life."
"No, but it's only fair if you're willing to give up a normal life to slum with a human who can't even lift things with his mind, that he realize just how amazing and wonderful a non-equivocal person you are, and that he could be giving up something I always wished I could have."
He felt her body become significantly warmer. "I want to go home to him. But, I don't really know where I am."
Daniel stepped away. "I can get you close to the harbor. After that, it's north to the mainland, but you'll be at the mercy of a water pokemon escort or a sailor to make the trip. Unless you think you can levitate across the water."
"How far is it from here?"
Returning from his study with a bag and a briefcase and reaching for a set of keys, Daniel assumed she meant to the harbor. "Walking, too far. Riding, and after what we've been talking about, two and a half uncomfortable silences."
Grace took up the book and followed Daniel out.
"I told you you wouldn't be able to concentrate on reading during the ride!"
Flying along a jungle path in a modified dune buggy, Grace held onto the book with her blue knuckles turning white while Daniel threatened to drive faster. She noticed a large outcropping of berries near a prominent plaque. "Route 3. Marker 34. North to Heinrich's Watch Tower."
"Who's Heinrich?" Grace asked.
"A blaziken, we know now. Used to be everybody thought he was a hand from Gaufrid Sindelbock's ship and somebody important since the name appears on a few of the other old, original markers. That isn't what happened, though. After a diary from that time turned up, we found out--"
"I know. Tutti told me everything except the names."
Daniel looked at her for a moment, then quickly back to the path, as it was prone to surprise even a familiar traveler. "How does he know?"
"They all know. It's part of their oral history."
Daniel slowed for a sharp turn. "They never told us."
After passing a silent straightaway, a bright, clean, modern sign indicated "Route 3, Marker 39." No legend accompanied that designation.
"You never asked them," Grace chided as she unfastened her seat belt and hopped out when the vehicle stopped before a small building.
"Well, I guess this is goodbye. It was a pleasure to meet you, Grace; if--"
"Grace Rainier; officially, someday, I hope."
Daniel nodded gently. "If you ever visit the island again, feel free to drop in."
"If I do, I hope to meet somebody new, too."
Daniel smiled for only a quarter second. "The museum is up the path, after Marker 40. Keep going and you'll run out of jungle at North-Tip Harbor. The pokecenter is there, although really it's just a hole in the wall of the general store. Ask around, and you should be able to hitch a ride to the mainland. Except when storms come through, there's always at least one boat coming and going every day. And if you have no luck, meet me back here in the afternoon. You're welcome to spend another night, of course."
"I guess I'm lucky either way. And, you were right about the book. Oh, it's still on the seat; is it okay there or do you want to take it inside with you?"
"Keep it. The ride to Hexyloxy or Coroxon or wherever you're going to wind up is pretty long, and if you aren't doing something, the sailors will probably try to put you to work."
Grace thanked him again, and gave a look back as he walked into the building where he worked. Book in hand, she began gliding along Route 3, heading to where she needed to be.
"Geejyeanghgnjyeanghgnjyeanghgnjyeanghuya!" everybody felt echo in their minds and ear canals at about the same moment as Grace approached the island's market. It was spacious and clearly dealt primarily with case orders.
"Well, it's not like I could stop him," asserted one voice.
"If he isn't feeling better before his mother comes back, we've had it," fretted another.
Grace looked around a rack of goods and found a relatively-small lugia laying flat on the floor. Two humans stood above it, both radiating anxiety.
"Excuse me," Grace asked either, "I was told that I can get a ride on a boat to the mainland. Can you tell me who I need to talk to about that?"
Everyone's stance buckled as the lugia projected and voiced another sound and tried to roll over.
"No, no! Other side! That side will make it worse, Kid." One of the shopkeepers knelt and strained to roll Junior onto his left. "There's a radio at the counter if you want to put out a call--all the ships coming or going tune into it--but usually you just wait by the docks and look for a boat."
Grace nodded. "Are you okay?" she asked the lugia.
He focused his telepathy so the humans would not hear. "Uncle Gil told me if I don't do what they tell me, Arceus will punish me. Uncle Gil was right."
"He'll be fine in a few hours," commented the other shopkeeper. "He decided he wanted to learn about every kind of candy and junk food at once. Now, he's learning about overindulgence."
Grace decided to skip the radio and head for the docks. As she left, she realized that departing presently was probably a wise choice.
"Oh, shit; I think he's gonna hurl. Get a bucket!" shouted one voice behind her.
"A bucket? That won't hold a third of what he ate; get a garbage can!" shouted the other.
A moment later, a projection of Junior's honest apology was felt by everybody nearby.
Grace discovered a small tiki bar near the docks. She sat beneath its awning for a while and watched for ships that would not appear. The passage of time seemed indistinct and her mind wandered into a state of complete inattention until a flaaffy behind the counter startled her by asking what she would like to have.
"Do you have berry juice?"
"That's about all I have," he replied matter-of-factly.
"Anything close to lemonade will be fine."
The flaaffy placed a blender on his bar's surface. Its wire ended not with a plug, but well-exposed leads. He wrapped one around each of his horns. "You like it sour? Sounds like what you need is an Iapapa-Colbur Catastrophe."
Grace glanced for her purse and realized that she did not have it with her; what she clutched was the book. "No, wait, I don't have any money. I--"
"Forget about it. The first one's always free, they say, and if you can actually down what I'm going to give you with a straight face, seeing it happen is payment enough. And if you can't, it's worth the laugh." Sparks crawled across his horns and set the blender's blade into a whirl.
Grace enjoyed her drink and a little of the flaaffy's family history until a boat came into port. She thanked her server and left to hail the boat's captain.
Captain Gil heard her plight and took a long moment to think about it. "I guess it'll be okay if you ride along. You gotta be nice and not bother the fella down below, though. Let's say he had a few too many last night."
Grace thanked him and teleported aboard.
"You got a ticket?"
Grace blushed and admitted she had nothing but what she wore and carried.
"Lemme see that," Gil demanded, indicating the book while he moved near the wheel and switched cliche captain hats. He took the book from her, flipped through a few pages, glanced at her, at the book again. Opening it to the back cover, he pulled from a pocket glued-in surely by a librarian a paper card, held it to the sunlight, replaced it, and shut the book forcefully, making it clap.
He returned the book and walked away from Grace. "Should I stay up here, then?" she asked.
Gil shrugged as he descended to the dock. "Nah, you can go in the cabin and out of the sun if you like. He probably wouldn't notice even if you sat on him. If he does wake up, though, his head's going to be pounding. Help yourself to the soda fountain if you like, anything but the ginger ale. That's saved to settle the seasick. We'll be off in a half-hour, I just gotta get some goods and check on the nephew."
Inside the cabin, Grace noticed a man's feet sticking out from a booth seat. Candy wrappers, dice, and the man's shoes were scattered about. There was a brown paper bag stapled shut on a small table. She found a seat with a working light above it and started paging through her book. It held her interest, but something was making her feel uncomfortable. Soon enough, the boat was on its way again. Grace left the cabin and watched the island shrink away, enjoying sensations of sea air flowing through her hair and skirts.
"There's so much of it."
"What's that?" Gil replied as he switched hats again. "Use your telepathy, Girl. I'm used to it."
Grace formed a connection with surprising ease. "I said, there's so much water. I've never been on the ocean before. I knew it was big from T.V. and things, but I couldn't imagine something so, well, vast."
Despite any telepathic bridges, Gil always spoke aloud to Psychic-types. "I take it this was your first tour of the island?"
"It wasn't much of a tour. More like a sleep-over."
"You've got a friend living on the island?"
"I do, now."
Carlos emerged from the cabin holding his head.
Gil glanced his way when he heard the door slam shut. "I don't know who's having it worse; you, or Junior."
"What do you mean?" he asked as he staggered near and found something to balance against.
"He finally got his momma to let him meet some folk on the island. Then, he wanted to meet all those cartoon cereal and candy mascots by eating their products."
Grace drifted near the wheelhouse. "Are you talking about that pokemon at the store?"
Gil puffed on his pipe. "He's the one. Lugia are both rare and powerful. His mother shelters him something fierce."
Grace giggled. "I know what that's like. My mother kept me away from humans and any pokemon that could talk. Of course I wondered why. She only told me that she wanted me to find a good mate before I got around any humans or their pokemon. Now I understand, though. It was because I'm blue instead of--" she cut herself short and glanced at Carlos. "Did you want to say something?"
He woke up, and nearly fell over upon looking at Grace. "No! Go ahead."
Grace politely ignored the explosion of assorted emotions that wanted to burst from his head and continued. "Anyway, her plans changed, but at least I got a good trainer, and if I'm lucky enough, the other part, too."
"What are the odds of that, being different colors than normal?" asked Carlos.
Gil altered course a little. "Eight-thousand to one in the wild; a little better for the breeders. They got their secrets about it."
Grace took an interest in the red crystals mounted near the wheel. "I guess I lucked out, but I hope that's not the only thing that makes me special." She turned and watched Carlos as he staggered back to the cabin. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," he shouted with a curt tone before opening the cabin door and descending.
Captain Gil poked at an electronic display. "Still got a while lot longer before we dock again, but unless you like watchin' me smoke or find anticipating shoreline coming into view exciting, it might be better if you head down there, too. He ain't fine, and now that he's tryin' to be up and around, I'd hate him to bang his head or something and not find out till it's too late to do him any good."
A gust of wind caught the door when Grace opened it. Carlos turned with a jerk as the door was thrown wide, revealing a silhouette of a gardevoir surrounded by a bright glow. The image startled him well enough that he spilled a freshly-dispensed soda.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Let me help--"
Carlos staggered away as Grace drew a bar rag to her grasp, quickly approaching him. "Don't--don't touch me, please."
At least he accepted the rag as she held it out to him. She returned to her seat and re-opened her book, although most of her attention focused on him as he settled back into the booth like it was a fainting couch and worried diligently. After a while, he seemed to calm down, but his head still hurt.
"Is it okay if I talk to you?"
He grunted.
"I'm Grace Rainier. What's your name?"
"Diego Ortega."
"When you first came out of this cabin, you seemed not to mind me, but then that changed. Why?"
Carlos leaned up a little. "Ha--have you been reading my thoughts?"
"Why are so many humans worried about... no, I haven't. I don't do that unless I have a good reason. But I would like to know how I upset you."
Carlos reclined again. "You remind me about something."
About some thing. Grace set that aside. "You seem familiar to me, too, but I can't place you at all. Have we met in passing or something? I'm sure you'd remember me, since I'm a one-in-eight-thousand after all."
"I don't think so." His delivery was suspiciously flat.
"Are you sure? I live in Rennin," she felt his mind twitch, "but I've never been very far from there since that became my home. Before that I lived all over the forest near Mount Buchu, but didn't really meet any people."
"Nope. I'm sure we haven't met."
She turned a page and read it, giving his mind time to settle. "If you weren't afraid of me, I would offer to soothe your mind. My master has trusted me and let me practice enough that I've learned to be very gentle. But, a side effect would be that I would be able to see exactly what you're thinking."
"I'll wait out the hangover."
She read another page. At its bottom, she remembered nothing of what she read. It was pointless to continue trying. "Did one of us hurt you?"
Big twitch. "No. Miss Rainier, I don't think it's okay for you to talk to me anymore. You're making my headache worse."
That comment irritated Grace. "You are the one making your headache worse. Making up lies takes effort, and that's all you've been doing."
He groaned and pulled himself up and sipped from his half-soda. "Fine. You caught me. My name is actually Carlos, I've never met a Psychic-type I liked, and the last time I was in Rennin--to hell with that place."
Grace shut her book and stood, slowly drifting to the booth seat opposite his. "I'm sorry if I reminded you of something bad, but I don't understand why I can feel you blaming me personally for that. If you would let me, I would feel better if I could help you--"
"If you don't like my emotions, if you want to help me, go back to the deck and let me pass out, por favor."
Consenting, Grace returned to the wheelhouse. "Carlos is resting again. He seems to be a very hateful person."
"Junior likes him. He can't be too bad." Gil focused on a particular memory involving Carlos and Junior for Grace's benefit.
"He's a Psychic-type, right? I felt him projecting really strongly at the store." The captain affirmed. "He must have seen something in that guy, then, that I haven't because he didn't want me to look beneath what's on his surface. And, he told me he never met a Psychic-type he liked."
Gil chuckled. "Considering he's had three lugias inside his head and that's the least of his troubles, I wouldn't hold that comment against him and I doubt Junior would either. I also wouldn't blame him for not setting out a welcome mat for another pokemon to come in and start messing with things upstairs."
"I guess you're right. I got probed deeper than I thought by a Psychic-type once, myself, and it does feel weird when you realize that you're thoughts aren't what you expect them to be. Anyway, I just wanted to help, and find out why his mind feels familiar."
"Take the wheel for a second." Gil stepped aside and let Grace stand in his stead. When she took the wheel, he placed a captain's hat upon her head. She began to speak, but he interrupted her. "See the line on the dial of the compass? All you gotta do is keep it there." He then opened a metal box nearby and rifled through it.
"Come on, B, let's look inside. If it's a store-closing sale, this is our only chance!"
Burner had no argument upon which to base a protest. Alice dragged him through the front door as soon as they let pass a disheveled man exiting the strange shop holding a cardboard box. The air that followed him was thick with patchouli oil. Half of the store was picked clean, the other half: obviously things that were hard to move even at a clearance price. A bell above the door chimed as Burner entered, touched by one of his horns. Alice almost fluttered around as she perused. Burner was not interested in piles of old junk, brightly-colored as much of it was, and stood beside the sales counter. A man forced a curtain of beads aside as he returned from the rear and adjusted his yellow glasses before taking a seat. Alice glanced at him and waved briefly with a nod. Burner responded only by shifting his eyes. Alice began digging through a bin.
"Is that your girl, big guy?" Howard whispered.
Burner hummed.
"Is this your guy, little girl?" Howard asked across his sales floor.
Alice emphatically answered, "One-hundred-ten-per-cent!"
Howard returned to a whisper. "I can't help but notice a difference in you two's responses."
"I think she likes showing me off," Burner grumbled.
Howard fetched from beneath his counter some supplies and rolled for himself a gourmet cigarette. "I wouldn't blame her. What about you, her?"
"I won't... exhibit her like a trophy."
Alice held up a strange device filled with golden putty. "How much for this?"
The proprietor puffed a smoke ring. "Make an offer. Everything must go, at least until what's left can fit in my van. I'm making the big move to Tartaroyal." He turned back to Burner. "You should, you know."
Burner hummed with a tone that besought explanation.
"She knows she's a very desirable creature in at least a couple ways, and at the drop of a hat she's telling the world she's completely satisfied, man. That means she sees you as a very desirable creature, too. After a while, she might get to wondering why you aren't willing to tell the world the same; you dig?"
Alice collected a few other trivial objects in a spare box lying about and brought it to the counter. "Everything must go, right?"
"Everything and everybody, sooner or later. Those wheels ain't never gonna stop turning 'round."
Navigating about an unremarkable buoy, Gil began slowing his craft in preparation of his approach to Hexyloxy Harbor. "I'll tell you somethin', just my opinion on things. If a gal in a pretty dress popped up out of nowhere and said she thought I was familiar, I'd deny everything, too. I don't know anything about that man's past, but I know what is and ain't my business."
When it was time to step ashore, Gil roused Carlos and led his passengers off. Gil made a little small-talk with Grace. "I bet you can feel the poles at the pokecenter from here, so I guess you'll teleport the rest of your way."
"I wish! I couldn't even hop across town without passing out."
Gil adjusted his hat. "How'd you get out to H.I., anyway? You said it was your first time on the ocean, so unless you came by chopper or in your ball or something."
Grace stopped to think about it. "Uh, I don't remember. I was just kinda, there, suddenly. On the beach; by some 1-1 marker."
"Well, I've heard stranger stories. Usually they involve rum."
"I've never tried it. Maybe I shouldn't. Who knows where I might end up?"
The captain chuckled. "In bed, in my experience. As you said, if you're lucky enough." Captain Gil gave her a wink and took his leave.
Grace half-walked and half-floated about town. She seemed to know where Hexyloxy Pokecenter was by instinct; in fact the path seemed eerily familiar. Once there, she asked the nurse if she could rest in its vast lobby for an hour. Permitted, relaxed, and calmed, she felt pretty good lying upon a wide sofa-like piece of furniture with a cushion gap right where her antenna protruded; until she suddenly remembered, "My book!" She rose up from her supine position forcefully and blacked out, having immediately struck her forehead against a wooden beam.
When Grace recovered her senses, she realized that she was in a very warm environment. It was not completely dark, but there was no artificial illumination. She reached around herself, found the beam, and tried to get up carefully. The ceiling was far too low to stand beneath.
Marianne flipped a page in a white photograph binder with a soft, padded cover. Aside from daylight trickling through vent grilles, her jewels contributed additional light of a crimson cast. "Good choice head-banging the collar tie. If you'd missed and kept going, one of those protruding shingle nails would've put an extra hole in your head."
"Wuh... where am I?" Grace looked about, finding insulation, trusses, dust, a bundle of silver wire, boxes, a ghost, and an empty bottle of glue.
Marianne flipped another page. "You're in my bedroom. Uninvited, I might add, and interrupting my 'Me' time. Were you hoping I might not notice and you would get a chance to dream-eat me?"
Grace crawled across a platform of plywood. "You didn't bring me here?"
Marianne cast the photo album aside. "What reason in any of the nine Hells would I have to bring you up here? Let's try the opposite. GET OUT OF MY ROOM!" Marianne rushed Grace, ensnared her, and flung her through the plywood and drywall beneath her, into the living room. Grace broke her own fall with levitation and shook her head to clear it, casting calm-mind on herself. The house appeared to be otherwise empty. She checked Joe's room. Her purse and his ball clip lay on his dresser. She crawled into her master's bed and clutched his blankets. She attempted to sense any psychic remnants of his recent mindset, anything to tell her what she missed while she was wherever she had been. She could not discern anything, however, because there was another, overwhelming, remnant energy nearby, in the doorway. It was that of a gardevoir, but one that never actually stood there.