9 – Where I Am Meant To Be Is…
The Gym was bustling with activity. Being a nurturer of plants, it is not really within my nature to like or accept the frenzied pace of city-living. I prefer instead the existential philosophy of flora. They are peaceful, harmonious, stolid, gentle, and quiet. My gym, as a rule, is a tranquil place to visit. Even the Pokemon battles are to be conducted in a mild and unobtrusive manner. So that, the present swirl of human-induced chaos was not to my liking. It was rather grating to my nerves and adding stress on top of a persistent depression.
Still, I should not begrudge the surge of interest in my gym from all corners of society: trainers, horticulturists, beauty pageants, marketers, and many others. With rumors spreading that the Rockets had been dealt a huge blow and the sudden plummet in Moon Dust related drug crime, it seemed that many more people were willing to brave the streets, especially at night. A jubilant mood had caught the population, propelling them to celebration and public merriment. The Summer White festival announced it would open a week early. The shopping malls offered spontaneous sales. Business began hosting extravagant competitions, and customers rewarded them with a bout of reckless spending. The exuberance had spilled over into my gym.
So it seemed, in the midst of all this joy, I was the only one with a sour attitude. The lingering memories of Petrel and what he had threatened were haunting me (I did not yet know the pansy he would turn into, and feared his reprisal). Beyond that, I still could not forgive myself for losing the Oddish. It hurt me personally to think of their fate, and also it made me feel too guilty to enjoy any of the jubilations surrounding me, knowing I was only free thanks to my cowardice in the face of their extermination.
Jasmine was… acting strange. I expected her to behave the same as me, sorrowful and weary. In a mere week's time, she had grown as close to the little shrubs as I did over the course of a whole year. It would make sense for her to be consumed in grief. Her efforts had saved us from Petrel's wrath, but no the Pokemon. That should have devastated her. What she actually displayed was not sadness or grief, though- it felt more like… hmm. What is the word?
"Stressed," she answered, when I got up the courage to ask her.
"How so?"
"It's nothing."
"Really? Tell me! I'll listen. I'm a good listener."
"No, it's nothing. Tell me about the exam. I want to learn how the battle portion is administered."
"Oh. Very well. It's a five round course, best of four to pass. The proctor will use a standardized team that you have to beat. There's no relative performance factor, it's pass/fail." And just like, she successfully side-tracked me for a good half-hour.
The rest of the day was spent rushing from one activity to another. Jasmine shadowed me the whole way, taking notes and being a very attentive student. I showed her how to run a class, how to organize battles for Gym Trainers, and how to write a suitably magnanimous victory speech and humble concession speech. We watched a little television: one video about how Gym Badges were made, another home and gardening show, and another showing the matches from the Super-Regional Tournament being held in the western continent.
Jasmine clung close by, clearly determined to keep by my side. She sighed and huffed a good deal, and was constantly on guard, eyes shifting, head rotating, looking for someone or something. I couldn't tell if she was afraid of something or desperately looking for company.
"I'm terribly sorry, but you can't come in."
"Why?"
"You can't."
"WHY?"
"It's… blah. The Kanto leaders are having a teleconference and we're discussing salaries. That's private information, you can't listen in. I'm sorry."
"Oh. But... fine."
When I returned from my meeting I discovered the truth behind her strange mood.
The Gym was finally winding down, the many trainers and visitors filtering out. I was looking for her and couldn't find her. My search took me through the numerous planting beds and colorful foliage, until I happened upon a secluded walkway near the back entrance.
"Well, it's just lunch, right? Is that so bad?"
"I'm not hungry."
"Then what about a movie?"
"There's not really anything out there I'd like to watch."
"You're just not up for anything are you? Ya know, I'd love hanging out and showing ya some Pokemon stuff, but most of the Pokeparks are closing early today. Isn't there anything else you and I could do?"
Gary?
Come to think of it, he has spent the last few days hanging around my gym. After the Hightower Park affair, I had my suspicions, with him showing up out of the blue and attempting a rescue (little good though it did). To hear him now though, it was plainly obvious he had developed some sort of feelings for Jasmine.
My heart raced.
It worked. For one side, at least. How will Jasmine respond?
If only I could get her to answer, to know what she really thinks here, then I could be sure… and what's the worst that could happen? They might start dating? Wouldn't that be wonderful?
Ha. I don't know.
Just maybe, though, a good man like Gary could break her of her silence on this subject, and maybe show her romance was not all that awful as she depicted it. Even if it was a short summer fling, just to have a positive experience like that would do her wonders. I'm sure of it.
"Um…"
Gary gazed on her expectantly. She balled her fists and held her arms tightly to her sides. Gathering courage, she spoke up.
"I'm sorry if I misled you, but I have no interest in being anything but friends."
All of my hopes, all of my fears, dashed.
By appearances, so too were Mr. Oak's. The young man hung his head and stepped back.
"That's it?" he asked, perplexed and bewildered, maybe a little bit bitter.
"Mmhm," she mumbled.
"Well. Nice knowing ya."
He exited the premise quickly.
I turned around and made my way back to the office. After something like that, I'm not sure I could do any good by showing up and butting in. Let Jasmine find me.
That sort of logic didn't last long. My mood began itching, my legs grew restless, my mind anxious. It is like having the feeling you misjudged the number of steps on a staircase and there's air where your foot expected surface, and you start falling- like that, but never ending. It became apparent I needed Jasmine's company as much as she needed mine.
"Hi."
She took a seat beside me. My anxiety evaporated.
"Are you alright?" I asked.
"Are you?" she countered.
"Why wouldn't I be alright?"
"The Oddish."
Oh. Yes. That's one good reason. Not impossible to overcome, I think. My depression went away as long as I was occupied with someone or something. Yet this other thing on my mind, it never went away. It persisted.
"It's hard to accept. I know I shouldn't feel responsible, but I do. It hurts," I said.
"Mmm."
"But what of you? I saw Gary leave."
"You were spying on us," she accused.
"No."
"I saw you."
Oh. Not an accusation, a statement of sure knowledge.
"Were you trying to set me up on a date with Gary?"
"Heavens am I that transparent?"
"Lisa clued me in."
"That traitor!" I giggled. "Well, forgive me. I was only trying to have a little fun, with your best interests in mind of course."
"Can we talk about it later?"
"Only if you promise to actually talk about it, and not use this deferment as an excuse to skip out on said talk."
"Fine, I promise. I just have other things to discuss with you."
"Such as?" I tried guessing what she could want.
"I'm getting tired of your apartment."
Oh. Eww. That is perfectly understandable. It was a one-room, cramped abode that was designed to be spartan living for one person. Two people trying to occupy the place for more than a week was a bit much.
"Can we, maybe, go to your parents' place and sleep there?" she asked.
I thought about it for a minute.
I haven't talked to my parents much since our visit, but the few phone calls we had were warmer and more familial than normal. This might be a chance to introduce Jasmine to them as a real person, and not just a suspect to be interrogated. If it was only for the next three weeks, the remainder of Jasmine's stay, I think I could bear it.
"Alright."
"We should pack up then, so we can get our stuff over there," Jasmine suggested.
"Good idea."
This time Jasmine had no qualms in entering the estate. She strode inside with confidence, purpose even, and made directly for the front door. She ignored the doorbell and rapped her fist on the wood.
"They won't hear you, the house is too big," I said- and just as I said it, the door opened wide. Mother appeared in the entryway.
"Welcome again Jasmine. Oh, Erika, for your information, we have motion sensors that alert us to visitors."
I groused, annoyed. We never had motion sensors when I lived here. How was I supposed to know that? Fancy schmancy house you got there mom. Feeling proud of yourself? Nyeh nyeh nyeh nyeh! *sticks tongue out at mother's back*.
"I have your room all prepared. I assume you are comfortable sharing a futon for the rest of your stay? It is king-sized. Or would you rather have your own mattress?"
"I'm okay bunking with Erika. She's a heavy sleeper, so it's not a bother," Jasmine said without a hint of humor.
"Good. You should unpack while I make supper. Dinner will be served outside, on the back patio." Mother turned and gave an uncharacteristic smile to Jasmine, who returned it with her own.
"I'm a 'heavy sleeper'?! What is that supposed to mean?"
"It means you doze off easily and it's hard to wake you up when it happens."
"Then you should know, you're a nightmare to sleep with! Nights with you are like an episode of Dragonball V!"
"Then why not ask for another futon?"
"Haaaa… no. It's too much trouble. Mother would lecture me if I asked for one myself."
We arrived at my room.
"I like your mom," she said as we unpacked. "She seems very kind and caring."
"You wouldn't say that if she was your mom," I said.
"Yes I would," she replied.
"No, you wouldn't. All parents seem nice to other children. When it's their own child, they don't have the same kind of patience. There's more expectations, more judgment."
"Do you not get along with your mom?" she asked.
"No."
"But it looks like you get along. She loves you, I can see that."
I sighed.
"That's how it looks on the outside."
"What's the matter?"
"You are only seeing the good side of our relationship right now. My mother, and my father… they never accepted the path I wanted to take in life. They love me, yes, but in their own way, on their own terms. Coming here to their house, I've learned to take up a mask and pretend to be the daughter they expect of me. So long as we all forget our differences and I play my role, we live together in peace."
"Oh."
Jasmine drifted off into contemplation. I continued, suddenly roused, unguarded, volunteering information I had never shared with anyone else.
"It's hard to keep bottled up like that. I feel like I'm living in a forced silence, my wishes, my personality gagged. It wasn't enough I took up mother's work or father's religion, or excelled in school or kept out of trouble or kept good company, never enough. Nothing less than perfect adherence to their outmoded, bigoted, backwards morality was ever enough! I feel like I squandered my childhood trying to live up to their outsized expectations, always wishing they would grant me the tiniest little leeway to live how I wanted and be who I wanted to be, but they never tolerated it for a single second. Now I have my freedom and yet I still can't get out of the chains they placed on my soul all these years, still living this farce, still being manipulated, still hopelessly clinging for their unconditional love and acceptance, just so I… so I…" I gulped, and prepared to divulge everything to her- but then-
"I think you're being selfish," Jasmine said bluntly. Her comment took me by surprise. My feelings were thrown through a loop. The stress and tension of trying to tell her what has been gripping my heart this past year was suddenly blown apart, like a dandelion before a whirlwind. The void was quickly filled with resentment; anger began bubbling up within me. She saw that.
"Sorry, but… it's my own experience. I'm jealous. Maybe you don't agree with what your parents want from you, but you have that option- you can play to their whims and you'll be accepted." She huffed. "At least you are wanted here."
"I'm not wanted here! A charade called Erika the Obedient is wanted here-" I stopped talking, suddenly aware of my friend's tears.
How often do we listen and yet only wait for our turn to speak? How often do we speak of others and yet say more about ourselves? What Jasmine was saying- was it really a criticism of me? Or was it herself she was thinking about?"Jasmine… are you… okay at home?"
She shook her head.
Oh dear.
I feel horrible now. It was wrong, trying to unburden my demons upon her.
Erika, whatever you've been through, no matter how awful you consider it, look at the end result. Do you truly consider yourself misfortunate? You have joy, and hope, and independence, and many others who rely on you and give meaning to your life. All those lost years spent as a child, unable to be yourself, you're making up for them now, though imperfectly, though not the way your happiest fantasy would have it, but still good. Yet, you would complain and berate and take umbrage with this young woman, this girl, your friend, whose pain and suffering you can intimately feel? She's in tears. This isn't the first time. What could possibly be happening in her home that would send her to tears on a regular basis, from the mere mention of the issue? Your worries look paltry, childish in comparison! You idiot!
What do I do? Talk with her? This is such a delicate situation. I'm no psychiatrist, I'm worried about saying the wrong thing and hurting her. What to say? What to ask? What would the consequences be for not asking at all?
I ordered my thoughts, spoke up, and hoped for the best.
"Um… Jasmine, do your parents not love you? Is something wrong in your family?"
She shook her head and clamped down.
"I don't want to talk about it." She braced herself, took a deep breath. "I think you'll change your mind soon. You'll see how much your parents love you," she said with utter conviction.
What could she possibly mean by that?
"I'm hungry, let's get dinner."
And now she's chipper. A brave front? A diversion? She's moving with urgency, so perhaps she really is hungry.
Out of habit I followed the winding halls to the kitchen. Jasmine seemed to know better and took a left where I turned right.
"Outside, remember?" she called back.
"Oh."
Well it was a pleasant evening.
Jasmine found the sliding door and stepped outside ahead of me. She took a sharp turn and disappeared. Mother and father were probably out there. By instinct, I bowed my head, shuffled out the door, and mumbled a greeting.
"Good evening father. It is good to be home-"
I blinked.
The world was silvered.
"Oddish!"
Silver, silver and indigo, everywhere. The rustle of fronds stirred to motion met my ears.
"What the?"
"Oddi! Odi! Oddi! Oddi! Oddi! Oddi!"
"Oddish!"
"Oddidididid!"
"Issh! Isssa ish! Oddiiisshhiii!"
"Odda!"
"Oddish!"
I was swarmed. I could progress no farther than a couple steps out the door before my path was clogged with specie-colored flora. Bulbous bodies hopped up and down in excitement, some leaping as high as my arms. One venturous leaper made it to my bosom, whereupon I reflexively caught it in my arms.
"Oddish!"
"How is it possible?" I uttered.
They're all here.
All the Oddish from the park. All safe and sound. Flocking to me. Rejoicing at my presence. Loving me.
"No!" I cried.
It was an illusion. A false hope. Even if these creatures were real, they were living on borrowed time. Without the white boulder and its detritus, their metabolic process would fail and they would die. This could be nothing more than a bittersweet farewell.
"Just to see them one last time- I'm thankful, but it feels too cruel."
"Silly, look."
Jasmine pointed beyond the Pokemon, to the garden.
"Impossible."
The white boulder lay upright. Even more absurd, it had already been incorporated into the landscape. Its back was set against a hill, from which a stream poured down and over the rock. A small pool formed around its base, slightly discolored from the eroded sediment. Surrounding that was a berm of freshly tilled earth, with visible pot-burrows dotting it all over. A set of young, newly planted willow stalks formed a perimeter.
"How?" I uttered in disbelief. "All this- how?"
"Don't you think it was odd I had Steelix already in the ground when that thug attacked us?" Jasmine asked.
"I never gave it thought," I admitted.
"When I heard what they were going to do, I felt awful. If that's what the law considers "just", then I didn't feel any need to abide by the law. So I snuck into the park at night using Steelix's dig. Got out the same way; Steelix carried the boulder and I managed to convince the Oddish to follow behind."
"But to bring them here? I can't believe mother and father would allow it."
"She begged us to shelter the Pokemon beforehand," came a deep voice from behind me. I turned and found father, followed by mother, walking up to us.
"You agreed?" I said, shocked.
Father sighed.
"I think you have found a very remarkable person to stand by you," father said. I blushed. Mother followed with her own explanation.
"'One only knows the value of something when it is lost.' We discovered the truth of that proverb when you ran away from home. We miss you, and if there is anything we can do to convince you that it is okay to visit us from time to time, we will be happy to try it. Even if it entails taking care of these many little ones."
"I know I have not always been the most loving father. It has been hard for both of us. Raising you was a trial, one that sorely tested the beliefs I held sacrosanct. I…" His voice softened "I am starting to realize that upholding my honor was not worth alienating my own child."
What was saddening was that I understood what he meant. He still believes my choices, who I am, is wrong. He still thinks harboring me is a sacrilege that will taint his honor. The only relief is that he has decided that his duty as a father supersedes his honor as a man. Yet- it was an enormous relief.
"Come here," he said, opening his arms.
I obliged.
Jasmine looked on as the father and daughter exchanged embraces. Then my mother joined in and she sighed. Then thirty-some Oddish joined in too and she keeled over and laughed.
The Pokemon are precious to me, make no mistake about that.
But Jasmine, your actions had the unintended consequence of bringing me and my parents back together.
"If you'll be staying here for the next few weeks, you'll help me tidy this place up, won't you?" Mother said, nodding to the Oddish garden.
"Of course."
"I want to help!" Jasmine chimed in.
"Your help would be welcome as well. We could start by excavating the ground around the perimeter. I would like to make a walkway using stepping stones. You don't mind hard labor, do you?"
"Um, "hard" labor? I'm kinda scrawny, so… on the other hand, I have an eight-ton excavation machine on me…"
Mother chuckled. She led Jasmine towards the garden to show her what she would like done. A pair of Oddish followed them, playing leapfrog as they went.
"Father, is this alright?" I asked.
"I'm aware of what these creatures are sought for," he said. "After considering everything, I think it was a good idea of Jasmine to leave them in my care. I can't think of anyone else who is both trustworthy and powerful enough to safeguard them."
"Will you be okay? You might be arrested if they find out."
"The mayor? Have me arrested?" Father guffawed. "He knows full well if he ever interfered in the affairs of Kanto Medical, the Feds would come down on him in a heartbeat."
Father is so funny. His favorite joke is to brag about what he could do to someone who is threatening him: life imprisonment in a nightmarish prison in the middle of the ocean, forced consent to experimental medical procedures, "volunteering" as a training dummy for our military's elite psychological interrogation unit. The scary thing is that he really could do it, and get away with it!
His gaze went to the other two women, particularly my friend.
"I don't know how to be comfortable with this," he said.
It's obvious, from his body language and tone, to see the inner turmoil and conflict of emotions he's going through right now. He spent his whole life entrenched in his biases, years and years fighting against the reality I represented. If it were anyone else, anyone other than his own daughter, he would not tolerate it. Even if it were Adam, his son, and not me. Oh, thank the heavens it was me and not Adam; this family would be torn apart!
"What can I do to cope? Do you know how to help people like me come to terms with this situation? Is that something you've learned?"
"I know places where you can go for counseling," I suggested.
He blanched at the suggestion.
The Chief Surgeon in counseling? Ha! Not happening.
I shrugged my shoulders, unable to offer any better advice.
"Do you plan on revealing this to the public?" he asked.
I sighed.
"There's nothing to reveal."
He cocked his head.
"It's not mutual," I explained.
"But, wait, I thought…" he stuttered, uncharacteristically.
"I'm sorry. I misled you and mother. It's not that way- even if I wish it was."
"Oh."
The silver-leaf Oddish frolicked around, exploring, still getting used to their new home. Some of the lazier ones were already tucking themselves into the soil. That long-leafed fellow, the one I call Opus, is already buried over his bulb and dozing. The sun was failing, and I could catch the faintest hint of glow coming off the boulder, the water, and the Oddish. It would be quite a vivid spectacle once darkness fell. Thankfully the walls of the mansion would hide the luminescence from the eyes of outsiders.
These walls- oh haha. These same edifices which I once considered a barrier to the wide world and freedom; now they're serving their intended purpose, and protecting that which I hold dear from the world which I have come to fear.
"Erika," father said at last.
"Yes?"
"I don't blame you for running away. I always wanted this place to be your home, not your cage."
"It's a cradle," I told him.
"Ah."
"It's time for me to go out on my own."
"I understand." He put a hand around my shoulder and squeezed. "I hope, then, that you find your place in the world, and can be happy there."
