Winnifred and Lyle's Everyday Miracle
…
Welcome to Aspartia Town! – Part 2
-Lyle-
This wasn't how he expected their first meeting to go.
Lyle wasn't a complete idiot. He knew what he was doing, being sweet to a girl over the hotel message system instead of going and talking to her. It was simple and easy, but if he kept it up, he'd be labeled a creep. Lord knows that once a girl thinks you're a creep, there's no going back.
Besides, he had a mission. The front desk girl might have some information that could help. Again, Lord knows that getting information in Aspartia Town is worse than finding a needle in a flaming, nuclear haystack.
So when he heard the crashes downstairs, he probably could have gone to investigate personally.
Lyle had laughed at the thought. If he could go to the lobby, he could have gone outside anytime in the last two weeks. He hadn't. And so he didn't.
Then here comes the front desk girl, replying to his messages and needing help, finding herself in some kind of trouble.
If there was ever a chance to act out of character—or maybe even get back into character—it was now. He offered his help.
And now here she was, in his doorstep.
This was not how it should have gone.
"A Pokemon Ranger," she repeated his words. The hurry in her voice stabbed him, and she smirked. "I'm not an idiot. Pokemon Rangers have assignments and missions. They aren't shut-in Internet people."
Harsh. "I have those," Lyle said simply.
"If we had a Ranger in the hotel, Uncle Howard would have known about it."
"He does."
The girl had more to say, but she didn't. She started pacing in his doorway, eyes shifting. He remembered them from checking in, weeks ago, a moment she clearly had forgotten. Those big, round honey eyes that took in the world, that round porcelain face that had smiled so sweetly…
God, did they make people like this back in Oblivia?
She clenched her fists at her sides.
"Look. I told you everything you need to know in that message."
"Men came and took your friend," Lyle recited.
She nodded. "Can you help him?"
"I-I think I can."
She raised an eyebrow. Way to sound reassuring, Lyle.
"Hold on. Let me get my things," he stumbled. Lyle closed the door behind him and fumbled through his belongings in the darkness, with the computer screen's glow as the only light.
That and his Styler, which sat unused in its charging cradle. He'd take that last.
The routine. What was the routine? Try and remember!
First things first. Put on some shoes. Grab the black converse. That'll work for now.
He found his gloves in the unused sock drawer. They had probably given the complimentary Bible some company.
The belt was for the official look. Because this was official business, even if it kind of wasn't. Lyle didn't want to explain his absence to his higher-ups, but did that mean ignoring when someone needed him?
Lyle ran a hand through his hair and took a breath. The moment of truth.
He pulled the Styler from the charging cradle on his desk. It rested on his forearm, the buckles clipping along his wrist. The display blinked to life.
Twelve missed calls, all from HQ. Lovely. He'd deal with that later.
Lyle faced the door. Faced the outside world.
He stepped into the hallway.
"I'm ready," he told the girl.
Her eyes raced to his Styler. She was probably like most people: she'd heard of Pokemon Rangers and maybe seen one interviewed on TV, but never got up-close and personal. The orange and blue plate on his arm was a bit future-looking, Lyle conceded.
The girl nodded. "Good. Let's go."
She took off down the hallway, clearing the stairs three at a time and sending her curls flying in her wake. It took Lyle a moment. His lungs adjusted to new air, his eyes to actual light. He shook out his legs.
And then he ran.
Lyle met her at the lobby front door, darting past the smashed plant and the bare walls. They pushed the doors open and were suddenly outside. The scream of Aspartia Town traffic, the glare of the skyscrapers and the hot, smog-ridden air almost overpowered him.
"They're at Fifth and Balbo," the girl yelled. She ran past him. Her hair smelled of coconut, and it took a moment to connect the dots.
"You're going the wrong way!" Lyle shouted as he followed her. The girl ran across the intersection, narrowly dodging a yellow cab. It blared its horn and Lyle waved an apology. "Fifth is back that way!"
"I know a shortcut. The other way takes too long!"
"I've never seen a shortcut on a map—"
"Would you be quiet and keep up?!"
She held out a small hand. It caught onto a streetlight and the girl spun, carrying her momentum with her into an alleyway. Lyle wasn't so graceful, instead skidding on his shoes and leaning on the pole for support.
Now he saw what the girl was getting at. "A subway tunnel," Lyle noticed.
The girl stopped to catch her breath. The tears in her jeans seemed to be worsening, and her baggy shirt had obvious sweat stains. "I thought…Pokemon Rangers…Had to do cardio?" She huffed.
"We do. I'm just not a fan of it."
Lyle took off, this time leading the way as the two descended into the station. Flickering lights and the glow of Lyle's Styler illuminated the path to the abandoned tunnels.
"This way!" The girl jumped onto the train tracks.
"These tunnels weren't on my maps," Lyle mused.
"Yeah, Aspartia Town's a beautiful mystery. Come on!"
Lyle followed her onto the tracks, and then they were racing down the dank tunnel, their lungs burning and legs screaming. The Woobat hiding in the ceilings screeched as they raced by.
"This is it," the girl said when they reached the next platform. She struggled to climb up from the tracks, unable to kick her legs up and over. Lyle jumped clear onto the aged concrete of the platform and extended his hand.
She seemed confused, for only a moment, before taking his help and being lifted up.
"Did you just jump six feet in the air?" she asked.
Lyle shook his head. "Fifth and Balbo," he repeated.
"Right. Fifth and Balbo…This way. Up the stairs."
It was identical to the way they had come. A race back to the turnstiles, a simple jump past the ticket counters, and a final race up the dank stairs to re-emerge in yet another alley. Lyle didn't stop; he kept up the stride, racing to the sidewalk, and only the girl's voice pulled him back.
"We're here," she said.
Lyle didn't understand. "In the alley? The intersection is…"
As he turned around, he understood. The alley at Fifth and Balbo. Because what kind of idiot criminal broke the law out in the open?
Lyle surveyed the scene.
Front and center, a bigger guy with a shoddy dress vest and discount designer clothes. A lame, balding haircut and muscles that told of life outside of Aspartia's upper-crust culture.
Behind him, two schmoes about the same height. Twice Lyle's size and twice his bulk. Unlike their boss, these guys had to be at least half fat, half muscle. Their gait was all they had going for them.
Finally, Mac from the hotel lay with the trash bags. Lyle spied a bruise on the side of the young man's face. Out cold.
Then there was the front desk girl, watching the whole scene with an unreadable stoicism. Lips tight, posture upright, knees locked.
"Alice in Wonderland!" The main thug said as he addressed the girl. Was that her name? "You bring my money?" Then, noticing Lyle: "Don't tell me the pretty boy here has it."
And addressing Lyle directly: "Take it from another guy. A cutie like her ain't worth eight-thousand dollars. Probably." A devious grin.
Lyle stepped forward, facing them all.
"By authority of the Pokemon Ranger Union, I'm placing you under arrest for breaking, entering, kidnapping and extortion. You may come quietly, and you have the right to remain silent."
The men watched him, arms folded. Studying his mettle.
"If you resist, I'll have no choice but to apprehend you b-by force."
That did it.
Lyle, you awkward wreck, you.
The leader held a hand to his ear. "What was that, little man? I didn't hear you, you seem kind of nervous. Maybe you should speak up."
Alice in Wonderland regarded both of them carefully. Waiting, watching for—
"Lyle, watch out!"
A third man from behind! Lyle heard the heavy footsteps race for him, let him get close enough to feel the man's rancid breath on his neck—
Lyle moved just an inch to the left. The man stopped in his tracks, his headlock taking only air.
He recited the moves from rusty memories.
Lyle dug his elbow deep into the man's abdomen. Like he thought: no muscles, just flab. The man keeled over for air, just in time for Lyle to rotate his arm and smash his elbow against his attacker's skull. The man stumbled—
Lyle spurred himself on: "Time for the coup de grace—"
Lyle swept the man's legs, carried his motion through a lightning-fast spin and, with his attacker in the air, kicked him forward.
Thug number three landed face-first on the putrid alley floor. Time between attack and defeat: 1.04 seconds.
"I'm getting sloppy," Lyle said.
Alice in Wonderland's eyes went large. Larger and more captivating than before.
The leader reached into his vest pocket. The thugs behind him followed suit, reaching to their back pockets. Lyle knew what came next.
"Last chance to come quietly," Lyle warned them. "I am authorized to use force."
"I am authorized to use force," the leader mocked. To his men: "Let him authorize this."
Pokeballs exploded in the alley. Three Pokemon crowded around the young Ranger: two Patrats and a Darumaka. Only the Darumaka had any heft to it; the other two might as well be cardboard cutouts of enemies.
The Pokemon waited to attack. Muscles or not, the thugs were scared. The leader apprehensive.
Lyle's Styler blinked to life, the sensors doing their jobs. The female voice crooned in its Oblivian accent: "Pokemon detected. Capture ready."
Surprise, surprise. One of the Patrats attacked first. Lyle tuned out their Trainer commands and focused on the here and now.
The glorified ferret dived for him, fangs and claws stretched. Lyle ducked, and when he stood back up, he whipped his Styler arm back behind him. The Styler's attack component—essentially the Styler outside of its wrist holder—flew toward the Patrat, hovering in the air and moving at Mach speed.
Lyle waved his arm in rapid circles. The Styler responded in kind, racing around the immobile Patrat as it struggled to turn around and attack again. It moved to leap forward—
The telltale blue light and 'pop' noise.
Thug two: "What the hell? Where did my Pokemon go?!"
Then the leader: "Darumaka, flail!"
The red ball of fists shot forward. Lyle watched each fist, his mind calculating. If any one blow connected, his ribs would crack, and the impact would easily cause internal bleeding.
The first swing came—
Lyle weaved around it, curling his entire body around the arm. The next blows came and Lyle dodged them accordingly, ducking and swerving and even jumping when Darumaka attempted to sweep his legs—
The second Patrat came for him mid-jump.
If he didn't think fast, the Patrat would chew his face off and the body would be a punching bag—
Lyle craned his whole body back, lying prostrate in the air, and Patrat glided clear over him with less than an inch of wiggle room. The Pokemon's unwashed fur tickled his nose.
The Patrat crashed into the trash bins along the alley. Lyle's Styler moved in, circling the Pokemon as it struggled to get up.
"Not this time, Ranger!" The leader bellowed. So he was finally getting serious, then. "Darumaka, get him already!"
As if dodging blows could distract Lyle from a capture. What was he, an amateur?
Lyle raised his arm to the sky, swirling circles again and the Styler always responding. Darumaka's fists swung wildly and accurately, but Lyle was a specter, a blond blur of motion.
He snapped his arm back down and the second Patrat disappeared in blue light. Another 'pop', another enemy down. Lyle somersaulted backwards— "That's impossible," uttered Thug Two—and landed with a renewed distance between himself and Darumaka.
The leader was just as speechless as Alice in Wonderland. Both jaws hung loose, collecting flies.
Lyle hadn't even broken a sweat. His Styler spun beside him, waiting for commands.
"Well, well," the leader said. "I was wrong. We're looking at the real deal. A Pokemon Ranger here in little old Aspartia Town. I should have shown a little more respect."
Alice in Wonderland kept opening and closing her mouth. What was she seeing?
"This has been fun. I'll feel bad sending you back to Ranger HQ in stitches."
What did she know that Lyle didn't?
"Darumaka!" He held his arm out, fingers extended. "Mega Punch!"
Darumaka responded in kind. It drew a mighty fist back and charged it, his fingers each growing and his fist shaking with raw kinetic energy.
It was a split opening. He could dodge the Mega Punch technique easily and have this done. He whipped the Styler around—
"Lyle, don't! It's a Cancel—"
"Cancel to Flail! Smash him!"
Darumaka struck!
Lyle narrowly dodged the blow, jumping and skidding back to within a hair's breadth of the Mega Punch enabled fists. The Flail blows came again, this time with the charged strength. If Lyle got hit now, he'd probably never wake up.
Lyle backflipped to gain more distance. He landed to find what he expected: Darumaka standing in place, staggering and blinking slowly. Heaving for air.
"What are you doing, jackass?!" The leader berated his Pokemon. "Get back in there! Move! Move!"
Lyle watched a smile spread on Alice in Wonderland. A curt smile, the kind you only enjoy when you're not on the receiving end.
"Alice?" Lyle asked. "Do you want to explain it? Or should I?"
"You Canceled a charge move," she explained. "Darumaka's got the strength of a stationary attack, and he's trying to combine it with a really, really fast one.
"Long story short, you tuckered him out," Alice finished.
Lyle walked up to Darumaka, slowly and surely. The poor Pokemon didn't have the strength left to lift its arms, much less to attack. Lyle touched its fuzzy forehead with his index finger and gave a light shove. Darumaka collapsed under its own weight.
The two thugs had broken out into a cold sweat minutes ago, which for Lyle may as well have been a year. The leader in particular had a curious stain around his crotch.
Too bad for those off-brand, discount slacks.
"Now that we've gotten that taken care of," Lyle announced. "With the authority of Pokemon Ranger Union, I'm placing the four of you—"
"No!" Alice in Wonderland ran between them. "Lyle, don't. I don't want that."
Lyle tilted his head. "I'm confused."
"You said it," said the leader.
Alice faced the thugs. "Roy, here's what's gonna happen. You'll pay me back for the damages, right now, and then you'll give me back my friend and you'll never come near me, or my hotel again. Am I understood?
And again, for emphasis: "Am I understood?"
Alice in Wonderland's words shook the thug back to life. He removed his wallet and threw it to the ground. "That's all I've got," he said. "I was sleeping on the street, it's why my buddies and I wanted free rooms…"
"Yeah, not my problem." The girl took the wallet and flipped it in her palm. "Now beat it."
The thugs did as they were told. Roy went so far as to help the first thug—the one that met the wrong end of Lyle's shoe—to his feet. Darumaka returned to its Pokeball in a flash of red light, and the entire gang headed back down the tunnels, tails between their legs.
Mac had slept through the whole ordeal, resting against the wall and quiet as a newborn.
The girl flipped through Roy's wallet, thumbing through bills and cards. "He was right about being broke," she said. "The bum has twenty bucks and a check-cash card. Sheesh."
Lyle held his arm out. The Styler flew back and snapped into its compartment. "Alice?"
"That's not really my name," she said. "I'm Winnifred. With two 'n's." She held up two fingers to illustrate.
"Winnifred." Honestly, she did look more like an Alice to him. "Do you mind explaining what I'm doing here?"
"Easy. Those guys kidnapped a co-worker—"
"It seemed like they knew you," Lyle interrupted.
"They did. I told you, I messed up."
"Getting thugs to trash your uncle's hotel is a pretty big mess-up."
Lyle folded his arms. He wouldn't have been anywhere near as brave twenty minutes ago, but the adrenaline and endorphins bathed him in a veritable confidence cocktail. She wasn't getting away without telling the story.
Winnifred knew it, too. She walked to Mac and eased his arm on her shoulder.
"It's…You're gonna tell my uncle about this, aren't you?"
When Lyle didn't answer: "This is what I get for going to a cop..."
"I'm not a cop."
"Yeah, I know." Winnifred sighed. "I'm a Pokemon Trainer. I had some money riding on a fight last night with Roy, but apparently, the guy that was supposed to pay him never showed. Roy followed me home last night for…whatever reason, and he came by to make trouble."
"In other words, you just needed me as hired muscle."
Winnifred's lips pulled to one side. Her gaze went to her shoes.
Lyle held his hand out. "I need to see your Trainer's License."
"What?!" Winnifred's porcelain face flashed crimson.
The adrenaline rush died instantly. "I-it's a routine procedure. I need to scan your Trainer's License."
Winnifred put Mac back down. She stood slowly, still not bearing to look Lyle dead-on. Her lower lip seemed to tremble. She mumbled.
"I couldn't hear—"
"I said I don't have one, okay?" Winnifred blurted. "I don't have a license. I've only got one Pokemon, and she's in a Permit Ball and she's perfectly legal, but that's it."
Lyle processed the information slowly. He drew his hand back.
It made sense now, why Winnifred needed a Trainer's License back at the hotel. Why she didn't go to the police first, or why she was so reluctant to believe he was a Ranger.
She was going to fight these thugs on her own. They definitely didn't have girls like this back in Oblivia.
"Winnifred, not only is the Underground a dangerous place for a teenager—"
"You're like, one year older—"
"—Battling without a license is a punishable offense. Almost as bad as battling for money outside of a sanctioned Pokemon League match."
Lyle silenced himself then. He examined the ways he could go about it.
On the one hand, he could take credit for his first Mission Clear in fifteen, going on sixteen days. Ranger HQ would forgive his lapse in communication. It would also mean arresting this poor kid, confiscating her Pokemon and probably wrecking her life.
If there was one thing separating Lyle from the pack, it was his outlook on justice and mercy.
The idea that maybe they were one in the same.
He flashed a grin.
"I'll tell you what," Lyle started. "Let's make a deal."
Winnifred nodded.
"I call an ambulance for your friend, what with his possible concussion and all, and you stop battling Underground. Sounds like a fair deal to me, right?"
She perked her head up, slowly. Eyes paralyzing. "You're serious."
"As a heart attack." Lyle grinned. He initiated a few keystrokes on the Styler screen, and a cheerful tone sounded when he completed. "Ambulance is on its way!"
"Thanks," Winnifred said, uncertain.
The energy drained completely from Lyle's system. He felt his muscles ache from the acrobatics, felt the first beads of sweat along his brow. He realized how far he was from the safety of his hotel room, how much he suddenly needed solitude.
Cause for sudden failure to be a sociable human being?
Remembering that he and Winnifred frequented the same building. Awkward.
"So…I'll see you around?" Lyle rushed. He turned tail and raced down the street before Winnifred could speak.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, Lyle chided himself. All of that build-up to talk to her, and he didn't even get to ask the important bit. Stupid.
The ambulance sirens blared down the other side of the street as he started for home.
…
He hadn't even taken his pants off yet when the Styler screamed at him. Calling the ambulance from his Styler was the first outgoing signal in weeks. He expected this. But still.
Lyle had shut his room door, drawn the blinds, and reoriented himself to the comforting darkness. He didn't mean to be weird. It just kind of happened.
It's what Lyle told his Head Operator too: "Today just kind of happened."
"Kind of happened?!" The Head Operator screamed. Lyle had met her only once. She was a woman in her early twenties, maybe twenty-four at most, if she was one of those people that just didn't age. Her screaming voice belonged in a crochety aunt. "Ranger, should I read off the list of charges against you that seem to just have happened?"
"That's not necessary—"
"The first check-in with HQ was scheduled the day after you arrived. Obviously that didn't happen."
"I can explain—"
"After that, you were supposed to infiltrate the Aspartia Town Underground. I get the feeling that didn't happen in the 72-hour period it should have either. Because hey, you would have checked in."
"Actually, that's part of—"
"Excuse me, Ranger. I am still speaking." She waited for Lyle to become silent. Then: "As I was continuing on…I can only conclude you have made zero progress on the XD-01 Operation. Protocol states for you to return to Almia to relinquish your Styler. Mission Fail.
"Unless there are objections," she added slyly.
This was why Lyle was assigned to this particular Head Operator, and he knew it. Lyle had the habit of helping whomever, whenever, with no thought to consequences. This woman had the same opinion, but respected authority just a bit more.
So instead of booting Lyle out of the Ranger Union immediately, he had one chance to state his case.
Lyle swallowed.
"I've made progress on accessing the Aspartia Town Underground," he said. "It's taken me this long because I…no excuse," he amended. Lyle spied the empty noodle containers piled around his dirty clothes. He had no excuse, point blank. "But I have found someone who can lead me to what I'm after."
The Styler speaker went silent for a moment. Then: "The men you fought aren't a credible lead, Lyle," in her gentle speaking voice. "Your Styler sent their Pokemon to us before beaming them back to their Pokeballs. Two Patrats aren't from the caliber of Trainer we're after."
"The men weren't, but Winni—" Lyle stumbled. "B-but the girl shows promise."
"How so?"
"She's a…she knows a Trainer in the Underground. It's a lead." And for emphasis: "She can help us."
"She can help you," the Head Operator corrected. Lyle heard papers shuffle in the background. "Fair enough. I should pull you out, but to be fair, we threw you in another country and told you to find a needle in a haystack. You have your mission extension."
"Thank you, Ma'am."
"You're welcome, Lyle," she sighed, exasperated. "Just…do us a favor and call when you're supposed to? You worried poor Stephen sick."
The signal died. The Styler screen flashed: next check-in call, forty-eight hours.
Great. Lyle circled around his room. Forty-eight hours to go back to the outside world.
How was he supposed to do that?
Worse: go back to the outside world and do a mission. Working missions back in Ranger Union territory was easy. It was all country, with trees and nice people and the occasional thug.
Welcome to Unova, the world laughed. Complete with several metropolises—metropoli?—trees replaced with steel structures, and more thugs than smiles.
Scary, country boy?
Come out of your hut when you've grown a pair, said Aspartia Town.
Lyle sat on his unmade bed and wrapped himself in the unwashed sheets. The same thing he'd done for weeks. The same thing he—
Ding! went his laptop on the floor. Lyle leaned over the bed to pick it up. He had left so quickly for Winnifred that he'd forgotten to shut it down…
One new message.
FrontDeskSupport: Thank you.
Lyle bit his lip. The typing cursor stared at him.
Room 14: Think nothing of it.
He put the laptop aside. Another ding, this time faster than he imagined anyone could type it.
FrontDeskSupport: If you ever need anything, come down and ask!
Lyle laughed out loud, then closed the computer shut.
He'd have to do this tomorrow, he realized. Too much social interaction for one day, and his batteries were fried.
He wondered how best to ask Winnifred. In person would be easiest, but she was so distractingly, so stupid beautiful.
Aspartia Town's beautiful mystery.
"Ahem, excuse me, Miss Winnifred?" Lyle said to his ceiling. "Would you be interested in helping me bust a crime syndicate?"
Thanks for reading! Review and let me know what you think.