The stench of brine swelled in the back of my throat. It choked me unapologetically as we cut through the waves.
"That smell's even stronger in the morning, ain't it?" Capt. Silva said.
"A little too strong," I said.
He was right, and I unfortunately still hated the smell.
"Recognize this part of the ocean?" Capt. Silva asked.
"It all looks the same to me, honestly," I said.
"It's clearer 'round this region. Kanto's one of my favorites, out of all the regions I travel to. It feels like home. But I, uh, haven't even been gone from a place as long as you have...I can't imagine what that's like."
The fog was a thick blanket covering of us. "Detached," I said, sticking my hand out to see nothing but whiteness.
"School's finished, though. You're more educated, at least."
"I can articulate how much I've hated boarding school."
Capt. Silva smiled, "It ain't for everyone. I mean, where you were livin' wasn't the most tropical place."
"A boarding school on a cold rocky island near nothing significant isn't much of a place at all," I said.
"It was your place for a while."
"No, it wasn't my place. My place is anywhere and everywhere else."
Silence; I had locked eyes with him, but remembered to lower my shoulders. Now wasn't a time to harshly defend myself.
"I'm sorry you had to go, Jeffrey," Capt. Silva sighed.
"Please don't be sorry for me, that's not going to help either of us," I said, feeling my hands fidget on the rails.
"I'm here to support you if you-"
"I don't need it. Really, I know who to go to if I need any advice, but right now isn't the time. All these problems...I can finally take them to my parents."
He was starting to get uncomfortable, "...are you ready for that?"
"We'll see."
Silence again. Pallet Town was a discernible smudge in the distance now.
"Oh!" Capt. Silva shouted, "I better be heading back up to the bridge so we can reach the harbor safely."
"I'd take that as a cue to leave, too," I said.
He held out a gloved hand, "If you ever need anything or anyone to listen to, you know how to contact me."
"Thank you, Capt. Silva," I said, receiving his gesture but knowing full well that I'd never see him again.
He smiled and tipped his hat, walking away towards the bridge. I turned back around to see several distinguishable buildings now visible from the ship.
I walked to my room and opened its heavy door to see my suitcases stacked neatly on the bed, ready to go. I sat next to them and laid down.
What was I going to tell Mother and Father when I get back? I hate you both for abandoning me on that island for the past nine years. I didn't have any friends for the over half my life. People from home lost contact after the second month I was there. Why are you both such terrible parents?
There are private schools all across the Kanto Region that aren't unwelcoming and horrible, so it was beyond me as to why I needed to go to one in the middle of the ocean. Was it to learn discipline? Could I not have taken up martial arts or enrolled in a summer camp program and learned the same thing that way?
Static crackled over the intercom, followed by Capt. Silva clearing his throat, "Jeffrey, there's a black car pulled up on the Port of Pallet Town for you."
I sat up. My parents were never typically early.
-
Drops of water started to build up on the windshield.
Kim sucked his teeth.
"Please don't say anything to me," I said, crossing my arms.
"Mr. Lanes, please be reasonable," Kim said, fiddling with the GPS to get back to the house, "You know they're both very busy and hardworking people."
"I'm gone for the last nine years, which is most of my childhood and...what, half my adolescence, and they can't be bothered to show up when I finally come back? If I didn't come back at all would they have noticed?"
"Please. Your father is in Celadon City-"
"Running a business, et cetera et cetera. Nothing here's changed. Kim, I've had enough of that bullshit."
"Mr. Lanes, watch your language. Your mother-"
"Isn't here either. What's she doing, building-"
"That's enough of your interruptions," Kim said, sitting up straighter, "I was against their initial idea of enrolling you into your school's collegiate division, but-"
"They want to send me back?!"
My knuckles felt cold from the lack of blood. I scowled at the rear-view mirror, waiting for Kim to lock eyes with me, but he didn't. He aggressively stared at the road.
"I'm sorry, Jeffrey," he said.
"I don't get a chance to protest this?" I asked.
"It's unlikely, since your next academic year begins in two-and-a-half months."
"You won't help me do anything?"
"I don't think I particularly want to."
"Kim!"
The movement of the windshield wipers broke the deafening silence.
"Kim, please..."
His eyes flickered from the rear-view mirror back to the road.
"I didn't think you'd still be a disobedient brat when you came back, so it seems your parents aren't the only ones who haven't changed," Kim said.
I slumped into the car's seat and looked at the world outside of the car: at Pallet Town's vegetable fields and white houses with red roofs. I saw people that I might've met sometime in the past decade if I wasn't spending my time writing trivial iterations of meaningless sentences on a dusty chalkboard. I saw the sun pierce through the morning fog and wondered what it would have felt like to feel its warmth everyday and not once a week when storms subsided.
This is the small edge of a world I never came to know or grow up in, and soon it'd the world I would never remember.
-
"Your father won't be home until three days from now," Kim said as I exited the car, "He'll be on a business trip in Lavender Town until then. As for your mother, she's helping test new facilities at the new Cinnabar Island Pokémon Center."
"Couldn't she have come up with me on the ship?" I asked, "We passed by Cinnabar Island on the way."
"It was business, Mr. Lanes," Kim said, "You'll understand. I'll be heading back to Celadon City to assist your father, and will return with him afterwards.
Food has been prepared and is ready for you in the kitchen, and any study materials you may need are in the downstairs library. My contact information is on the refrigerator if you need to get a hold of me."
"I appreciate all of that, but are they ever going to at least call?"
"Your father has a full schedule, but I'll try to make a reminder if there's time. Please don't be shocked if there isn't. Your mother hasn't sent her schedule, and Cinnabar Island's cellular connection isn't the best right now, so I'd assume not."
The pavement at my feet was spotty from the rain.
"I'm sorry they couldn't be here, truly, I am," Kim said, "...goodbye, Jeffrey, and welcome home."
The black sedan drove off with a cloud of steam tailing it. The sunlight from earlier had been masked with clouds, and I felt a cold drop pelt my nose.
I stabbed the lock with they key Kim gave me in the car, and threw my luggage into the foyer. If I remember anything from my childhood, it's how the house looked when I left: void of any signs of residents.
Kicking off my shoes, I moved across the tiled floor and into the uninhabited living room. The furniture, despite being older than me, looked as if it had been only used twice. Yet, there was not a trace of dust on the upholstery or coffee table. The decorations or lighting fixtures were left in the exact same position, and all the plants had their trimmed appearance meticulously maintained over the years.
Ironically, the kitchen always smelled of countertop cleaner and bleach. I opened the cold, stainless steel handle of the fridge to check the prepared meals. Heartless plastic containers filled with what appeared to be bland pastas and overcooked vegetables were stacked on the shelves. It didn't seem like Kim's cooking had improved over the past decade.
My appetite wasn't whetted by the meals Kim had left for me. I took my luggage from the foyer and brought them upstairs, dropping the suitcases in the hallway outside my bedroom. The doorknob was like ice in my hand, stopping me with its touch. But I knew what to expect from my parents.
It was empty inside. The colorful bedding had been replaced with white linens, and the plush carpet was ripped out and replaced by a light brown hardwood. All of the toys were probably thrown out, and the drawings and posters were stripped away to reveal a blank canvas of a wall.
I walked over to the dresser, hoping to see some childhood clothes that would spark some memories. It was empty too, however. In fact, each drawer slid out easily, with nothing inside.
I fell over on my back to stare at the blank ceiling. The child that was extinguished at boarding school was also erased from this room. Maybe, in that way, it was still mine. Turning to my side, I saw the closet door.
Expecting a space even emptier than my bedroom, I wasn't afraid to see nothing when I decidedly swung the door open. It'd be a miracle if inside there would be some remnant of my childhood identity.
I wasn't necessarily wrong.
On the floor of the closet was a dusty cardboard box labeled "PKMN." I sat in front of it and pulled it closer to my lap, tugging at the tape shutting the box and opening its closure panels. Why was this here, and not thrown away like everything else?
Inside the box was a black backpack and a note. Unfolding the page, it read:
For Jeffrey Lanes, from the Pokémon Laboratory of Professor Samuel OakJeffrey, I welcome you to enter my Pokémon Lab as soon as you are ready, to prepare you for your Pokémon Journey. Trainers from all over the world strive to be the very best- and I would be honored to give you the opportunity to do the same. Come and see the resources and knowledge you will have access to when you visit me! Inside this backpack, you will find
5 Potions 2 Antidotes 2 Parlyz Heals 5 Poké Balls As a beginning Trainer, it's important to be well prepared! I'm ready with open arms, Jeffrey! Truly yours, Prof. OakIn boarding school, there was a total of three classes on Pokémon: anatomy, history, and battle theory. And with limited access to Pokémon, the dream of becoming a Trainer faded throughout the years.
I unzipped the middle pocket of the backpack. There were six spherical pockets inside, with five containing red and white spheres conjoined at a black lining. These Poké Balls were in their smaller state, ready to be stored or transported. I felt the cold, synthetic Apricorn acrylic in my hand; its brand new texture preventing it from slipping around in my fingers easily. Pressing the center button, it converted to the size of a baseball and opened, releasing the compressed air inside and revealing several mirrored surfaces within the device.
Several angles of my reflection blinked back at me. Could this be my way out of more boarding school? Could I, a teenager with limited experience working with and living alongside Pokémon become a Trainer and go on a Journey?
I stood up and walked to the window. Across Pallet Town was the Oak Laboratory, a world-renowned facility dedicated to the research of Pokémon. Its main building was visible from all points of the town, and its windmill was encased in ivy. I stared once more at the note, and then back at the complex. Children at the age of ten are permitted to get a Pokémon Trainer's license and leave home, so couldn't I?
I smiled, "Let's see if I'm ready."