Chapter Two: The Pokéball

The diner is cold when we walk inside. My father takes off his heavy jacket and hangs it up on a coat rack near the entrance. I do the same.

"What big news do you have for me, Dad?" I ask.

He smiles, soft gray eyes glinting in the fluorescent lights of the diner. "Always to the point. Can't we just enjoy a meal together?"

"I guess…" I turn forward to take a look at the room. It is empty, probably about half an hour since the dinner rush subsided. About a dozen square tables are scattered across the relatively small room. The walls are decorated with old Newspapers containing famous stories of all the big events that happened in the past few years. One of the more recent ones, dated about ten years ago, read BELOVED GYM LEADER PASSES AT 84. The article is about Pryce, the local gym leader of Mahogany Town, who passed away a couple years after my family moved here from Newbark Town, where my dad spent most of his childhood. At the edge of the room sit a few broken-in booths. The plastic covers are ripped from years of wear and tear. It's an old diner, but they still had the best burgers this side of the Indigo Plateau.

"Welcome to the HootHoot Burger Hut, Jason!" says a perky voice. The voice belongs to Jessica, one of my friends from the Pokémon Academy. She looks beautiful today, I think. Her short black hair is tied back in a short ponytail, and her square black glasses have slid just far enough down her nose so they sit at a perilous line between "flirtatious" and "blind old person." Her uniform is a clean white, save for a grease stain on her left sleeve that leaves a heart-shaped blotch on her left arm. She wears a short pink apron and holds a small notepad in her hand.

"Well, if it isn't the employee of the month. So that's why you didn't pick up your phone earlier," I say.

"Oh please, Jace," she says, giving me a friendly yet condescending look. "Even if I wasn't busy at the restaurant, there are about a million things I'd rather do than mourn the loss of your Eevee."

"I wasn't mourning, I was just…reminiscing!"

"Whatever you say. Just the two of you?"

My dad nods. Jessica gestures us to follow her and we follow her down to the booth furthest from the kitchen, next to the window.

"Now I know you'll have some Iced tea, Jace, but what'll your father have?"

"I'll just have a water, Jessica. Thanks."

"Wait, Jess, am I really that predictable? Maybe I don't want an iced tea."

She stopp, a curious look on her face. She pushes her glasses up her nose and scratches off something on her notepad. "Well, okay, daredevil, what will you have?"

I pause and looked at the menu.

"Uh, well, see, I do want an iced tea this time, but next time, I'll probably want something else."

"Sure you will," she responded, rolling her eyes. "I'll be right back with your drinks."

"Smooth," my father says.

"Aw, shut up, Dad," I grumble, opening up the menu and trying to find my order. He shrugs and does the same. We sit in silence for a couple minutes, trying to figure out our orders, not once talking.

"Hate to break up this intense conversation you've got going on here, but your drinks are ready." Jessica puts my father's water and my iced tea down in front of us. "And since I know you're so desperately trying to try something new, I decided to give you sweetened tea instead of unsweetened. Try not to get too flustered about it," she adds, winking at me. I aim a friendly kick at her shins, but she moves out of the way quickly. "Can I take your orders?"

"Two Tauros Cheeseburgers, please," my father says, folding up his menu. Jessica nods, scribbles the order onto her notepad and walks off slowly. We sit in silence for a few moments, and I take a sip of the tea. It tastes terrible. My father looks around. There is no one else in the restaurant. He leans towards me ever so slightly, placing his hands on the wooden table. "You want to know why I wanted to talk to you?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I've been thinking a lot, and—"

He doesn't even get the chance to finish his statement as suddenly, a harsh beeping comes from inside his pants pocket. His face turns pale as he pulls out the vibrating phone.

"When did you change your ringtone to—" I begin to ask, but he immediately shushes me.

"I have to take this, I'll be right back. In the mean time, take a look in the bag." He shakily picks himself up off the booth and rushes out the door. I look back to where he was sitting and see his small, leather bag. He's had that bag for years. I assume it must have been a soft blue years back, but right now it is a tattered gray with a faded red Pokéball graphic stitched onto the front pocket—the same graphic used by the Pokémon League for years. The front pocket is unzipped, and something is inside. I reach over the table to pick it up.

"Going through your father's things? That's pretty low of you, Jace."

"Jess!" I fall back into my seat. The air inside the booth seat hissed out. "It's definitely not what it looks like."

"Whatever you say, klepto," she says, sitting down next to the bag.

"Shouldn't you be preparing our food?"

"I'm a waitress, not a chef. Besides, I'm training my Aipom over there to staff the tables." I turn back towards the kitchen, and sure enough, there's a little purple monkey carrying a load of plates in each of its paws as its tail, clutching a rag, wipes off a table with ease.

"Impressive," I say. She smiles, pushing her glasses up her nose again. "At this rate, you'll be the best waitress in Johto. What a life to live, huh?"

"Funny," she snaps. "You know I'm saving up to go on a Trainer's journey."

"I think battling Pokémon is a bit different than battling spilled food, Jess."

"When did you get so snarky?"

"I think it's that shit you put in my tea."

"Sweetness turns you sour?"

"Yeah, it does. This is why I like to be predictable."

"More like boring."

"Whatever," I say with all the finality I can muster. I roll my eyes for good measure. Jess just giggles. She leans in toward me.

"You know, I'll probably have enough money to go on a journey by Springtime. You should come with me!"

"Jess," I say, "I don't even have a Pokémon anymore."

Suddenly, the door busts open, and my dad rushes in. There is a look of concentration on his face. His usually soft eyes have become steel and his usual slow and leisurely pace has gone, being replaced with a nervous, near-jogging gait. He nearly trips on the foot of a table getting back to us.

"I need my bag." Jessica, usually quick of tongue, is completely silent as she hands him the old bag. My father pulls out a few bills and hands them to her. "This is for the food."

"Dad, what's going on?" I ask, starting to get up.

"Don't worry about it, Jason. Enjoy your burger. I have to go."

"But what about—"

"I told you, don't worry, Jace. I'm needed for urgent business. I probably won't be home for a while. Did you get the ball?"

"Ball…?"

"Here." He sets the bag down and pulls on the partially opened zipper. The pocket flap falls forward and a single red Pokéball pops out. It bounces on the floor twice and rolls to my foot. I pick it up hesitantly. There's a strange heaviness to it; there must be a Pokémon inside.

"Dad…"

He grabs me on the shoulders and pulls me up. "In there is an Eevee. Much like the one you had when you were younger. I was going to give this to you so you could have a Pokémon companion like I did when I was your age. Unfortunately, something's come up. That Eevee may just have to protect you. Train it well—there's a storm brewing." He throws me into a quick embrace and quickly turns for the door.

"Dad, what's going on…?"

He turns around when he reaches his coat near the front entrance.

"Hopefully, nothing. I won't be back for a few days." And within seconds, he is out of the door. Jess and I stand there, speechless. I look down into my hand. The Pokéball is dusty, and there is a tiny dent on the white underside. It looks like it hasn't even been opened for a few years.

"What an old-looking Pokéball," Jess remarks, taking the words right out of my mouth. "That thing looks like it's been sitting on a shelf for decades!"

"Well, Dad did tell me that he used to be a trainer who caught tons of Pokémon when he was younger. Maybe this is one of them."

"A thirty-year old Eevee? Don't be ridiculous."

Suddenly, an earth-shattering roar shook the entire restaurant. I rushed outside, Jess behind me, and as I opened the door, I saw two dragons battling in the sky. One was a Dragonite, its bright orange skin radiant in the last rays of the sunset. It was performing complicated aerial maneuvers as it fought the other dragon, which looked a little like a Pokémon, but a lot more like a gigantic black shadow. The battle ended quickly, when the Dragonite took off, the shadow chasing it.

"That was weird," I say, watching the two become specks in the sky.

"I hope your dad's okay," Jess adds.

"What do you mean?"

"Didn't you see him? He was riding on that Dragonite!"