The Garden
Music pours from the loudspeakers and the surrounding crowd cheers in rhythm with the beat. Everywhere I turn, people are rising up out of the stadium stands, calling my name and pumping fists into the air.
"You can do it, Dian!" they scream over and over again. "You can win this!"
In the middle of the arena crouch two Pokémon, legs braced against the ground and eyes narrowed in anticipation. They circle each other once, roaring battle cries. The rumble of the audience intensifies, drowning out the Pokémon's bellows, making me wince from my position at the edge of the arena.
I want to cover my ears and run, but it's too late.
One Pokémon lunges at the other, clawing and biting. I hide my face as the crowd cheers appreciatively. A shrill shriek breaks out over the thundering applause. The opposing Pokémon is writhing on the ground. A dark red puddle is forming at its throat.
"Dian! Dian!" the audience is chanting in approval.
I throw my arms over my face and squeeze my eyes shut. "No!" I yell over the roar of the crowd. "It's all wrong! This is all wrong!"
But no one is listening. Everyone just keeps on cheering my name, oblivious to my shouts.
My scream echoes against the huge domed roof of the stadium, growing louder and more piercing every second…
I jolt out of bed, blankets twisted about my body and neck clammy with sweat. My alarm clock is beeping shrilly on top of my bureau drawer, and I groan once I see the time. I've overslept, today of all days.
Father is going to kill me if I'm late.
Forcing myself out of bed, I dress quickly and dash down the stairs of the Pallet Lab, almost tripping over the last step. Father, the Professor; they're all gone. I shove the door open and stumble into the blinding sunlight.
Excited murmurs are already weaving their way through the assembled crowd.
"Which one is she going to choose? Has she said anything to anyone yet?"
"I heard Gary Oak handpicked these Pokémon especially for her."
"Here she comes, here she comes!"
"Come on, Dian!" someone calls loudly as I appear at the edge of the crowd. Brightly colored flags wave in the air around me, blurring together in one brilliant blur. And a few feet to the side stands my father, arms folded and face a mask. But the people of Pallet know him better than that. Everyone knows that Gary Oak is bursting with pride for his only child, who is minutes away from becoming a full-fledged Pokémon trainer.
Cheers and shouts of encouragement pierce the sky as I walk slowly down the aisle. It has just rained, and the morning air smells wet and new. I stop and raise my face, inhaling deeply as the cool breeze sweeps by.
I can't do this, but it's too late to turn back.
The new Pallet Professor, Richard Koreyu, is coming towards me now, holding a new Pokédex and shiny certificate emblazoned in gold. He hands them to me and says something that my mind is too numb to hear. The crowd breaks instantaneously into another round of cheers and I force myself to smile.
I know what I have to do; I've rehearsed it in my mind nearly a dozen times.
I gulp and walk dizzily to the table that has been set up at the front of the Pallet Lab. Three gleaming new PokéCapsules have been placed upon it in an orderly line. The colors and shapes shift in and out of focus as I approach, but it doesn't matter. Father has already drilled the routine into my heart.
"Bulbasaur, Charmander, and Squirtle," Professor Koreyu is reciting at the head of the table. "Any one of these three Pokémon is yours for the training, Dian Oak. But choose wisely. This Pokémon will be your first and closest friend in the adventures that await you as a trainer."
I can feel the eyes of every person in the crowd fixed on me intently. My hand reaches forward automatically and hovers above the three PokéCaps. My mind is spinning; I feel like I'm going to lose my balance and fall.
For a moment, I want to look anywhere except for this table. My eyes rove about, settling on the flower garden in front of the Lab, the one Mother and I planted before the Koreyus took up residence.
Sprawling wildflowers occupy most of the garden. The tall ones bob their faces in the wind while the shorter ones look on complacently. I can see all the colors from here, even; golden-yellow, pale blue, striking white, dark crimson tipped in orange, all the colors of the rainbow swirled into several square feet of ground.
"Weeds," my mother had always called the wildflowers, reaching down and yanking them up from around her prize roses. Then she'd do it again, with such vehemence that I would be surprised she didn't pull out the entire ground. I never tried to stop her, but when she was gone, I'd dig holes in the dirt and try to stick the flowers back in. She saw me doing that one day and made me stop.
"You have to pull out weeds, Dian," she explained to me impatiently. "If you don't pull them out, the poor roses are never going to get a chance to grow."
When I asked her why the wildflowers had to die for the roses, she just sighed heavily and shook her head. "Because they're weeds, Dian," she would reply tiredly. "There's no point in keeping them alive."
It never made any sense to me back then, why one beautiful flower's life should be valued over another's. But no one seemed real keen on giving me a straight answer at the time.
Mother was always busy with her flowers and Father with his Gym, so that might have been part of the reason they didn't have time to deal with the insistent questions of a seven year-old. Pokémon training went deep into both sides of my family; Father had been the dashing young Pallet favorite back in his day, my mother a trainer from the shadows that had come forth and defeated Gary Oak in one crucial League battle. An unexpected match, to say the least, but that's how things turned out.
Mother wasn't beautiful by most standards, and she didn't have very many friends when she was younger. As a child, she sometimes told me, the only thing she had to hang onto was her dream of becoming a Pokémon master. She had the skill to make it to the top, everyone could see that. But even then, she would never again best my father, Gym Leader and former League Champion.
"Dian, come here a moment," my mother had said on the day of my ninth birthday. Her clothes were streaked with dirt, and as she got up, I saw that my mother had cleared the rose beds of weeds once again. And in her arms was a vast bouquet of wildflowers, which looked nothing less than a burst of rainbow.
"Here," my mother said, placing the uprooted plants in my hands. "We can plant these in the front yard, by the door. They'll look nice out there, and everyone will be able to see them."
I just stared at her, not believing what she was saying. "But, I thought they're just weeds," I blurted finally. "You said they were worthless."
"Worthless?" Brushing off her muddy hands on the grass, my mother sighed heavily. "Next to the beauty of the roses, yes, they are worthless. But with a place of their own, Dian, they don't look so worthless anymore, do they?"
I nodded; pretended to understand what she was saying. Mother just stood there, staring at her own dirt-streaked hands and looking at the sky above. After a while, she took me to the front of the Lab, and we planted the wildflowers there together.
Now, looking at the thriving wildflower garden, I feel tears prick the backs of my eyes.
I hope you're doing as well as those flowers, Mom, I think sadly to myself. I guess you were right about them just needing a place of their own. And I guess maybe you just needed a place of your own, too.
Choking back the tears, I reach out my hand again.
Dad misses you so much, Mom. There was nothing for him in Pallet anymore, after you left. I can still see how much it hurts him, to come back here after all this time. We moved to Viridian so he could be closer to his Gym, and now he acts like it's his entire world.
Remember how he used to take me to the Gym with him on long nights? But back then I was too young to understand all the people with red-and-white balls, people who yelled at Dad and sent strange monsters in to hurt his. I'd start crying, and they wouldn't be able to shut me up without stopping the match. Dad doesn't take me to the Gym anymore, and I guess it's for my own good as well as his.
I never did like Pokémon battles, and I suppose I never will.
My hand wavers over one PokéCap, then the next. I feel my resolve weakening.
Is this what you felt like when you were supposed to become a trainer, Mom? No, you wouldn't have been nervous. You would've been waiting for this day your entire life.
But then, Pokémon training was your entire life. And I guess that's why you left us, to make your own way as a Pokémon master without Dad's accomplishments looming over you. Like the roses and the wildflowers.
It would be so easy to do it now, set my hand over one PokéCap and let the crowd cheer for me. But I cannot rid my brain of its thoughts.
You can't believe how angry I was when you left us for your second Pokémon journey, Mom. I must have punched in a dozen of Dad's old trophies before they finally stopped me.
But now…now I think I can respect you for the decision you made. It wasn't easy, to choose what you always wanted to do and go after the dream of becoming a Pokémon master. Especially when what we all wanted was for you to stay here, with us.
I still miss you, Mom, but what you did wasn't the wrong thing. It takes a lot of strength to do what you believe in, even if it means hurting the people you love.
Please understand what I am about to do.
My hand slams into the table with a loud slap, starling the Professor. "I'd just like to say thanks to all of you for being here today," I say, looking out over the crowd of people. "Choosing a Pokémon and becoming a trainer, well…they're both pretty big decisions to make. And I know that my family has supported me every step of the way."
Applause thunders, and Father is smiling at me. And I know that if my mother was here as well, she'd be smiling, too.
Mom, Dad. I know how badly you wanted me to follow in your footsteps. And you really believed I could, somehow.
But no matter how hard or long I try, I'll never be able to like Pokémon battling the way you do. I love both of you so much, but I'll never be happy as a Pokémon trainer.
Just like Mom was never happy stuck here in Pallet.
"Now that I'm ten," I hear my voice ringing out into the air, "it's time to make my biggest decision ever. Becoming a Pokémon trainer would be the best thing in the world for some people. But…" My voice falters, and I train my gaze onto the wildflowers in the distance, bobbing their bright heads in the breeze. Somehow, they lend me strength enough to go on.
"But…I don't think it can be for me."
An uncharacteristic silence has fallen over the previously rambunctious crowd.
Somehow, I manage not to bolt. Somehow, I force the crucial words past my dry lips. "I've decided," I said softly, numbly, "I've decided to resign my Pokémon license."
I'm sorry, Mom and Dad. Can you ever forgive me?
And I turn and walk away from the crowd, wiping hastily at my wet eyes, not daring to look in my father's direction.
Notes:
Professor Koreyu and the PokéCapsule (a futuristic PokéBall) both come from my other Pokémon fic, "Pokémon Neo Legacy: Star in the Storm." Sorry if it threw you off, but I'd like to keep that continuity.
Pokémon training may or may not be as brutal as Dian depicts it; it all depends on your point of view.
