Chapter 10: Night on the Farm

"Excuse me? Anybody home?" I asked as I knocked on the door of a large farmhouse. A moment later, the door opened and a stout, smiling middle-aged woman answered the door. She fit the prototypical farmer stereotype━flannel shirt, jeans, an apron.

"Oh, hello there, sonny. What brings you here on an evenin' such as this?" she asked, with a very slight rural accent.

I scratched the back of my neck anxiously. "Umm, so I was just wondering, well, you see, there's a pretty large thunderstorm moving in over there," I pointed over to the north, and sure enough, through the dusk sky there were thunderclaps and even a couple of lightning flashes. In the immediate area, the wind was even picking up and I found myself having to raise the volume of my voice. "And so I was wondering if I could, you know, maybe, stay at this house for the night? I, uh, don't have a tent, you see...and that storm looks pretty bad."

For a few seconds, the woman didn't say anything, instead just looking me up and down (which made me feel very uncomfortable) and seemingly staring into my soul━or at least, that's what it felt like. After what felt like an eternity, she spoke.

"So, you're a trainer, are ya?" asked the woman.

"Yes, ma'am," I replied, trying to sound as polite as possible.

The woman took a little more time to think. "Lemme go get my husband. He can talk to ya."

"Sure, ma'am. I'll just wait right here," I said.

"Oh, no you won't!" she said loudly, causing me to jump a little bit. "Please, come on inside! You can wait here. My husband's just in the other room."

I stayed right where the woman left me as she scooted over to another room; I could hear her having a whispered conversation with someone, presumably her husband, but I couldn't make out any words.

I couldn't help but look over the interior of the house. It had a very homely feel to it, with hardwood flooring and beige walls. I assumed I was standing in the living room; there was a couch, a small armchair and a very nice-looking flatscreen TV that contrasted with the rural appearance of the woman I had met. Past the immediate room, I noticed a stairwell to a second floor on my left, and straight ahead was a dining room. The woman had left through a door to the right of the dining room; the kitchen, maybe?
I was interrupted from my thoughts by the arrival of a middle-aged, brown-haired and slightly graying man. He was as tall as me, and wore a red flannel long-sleeved shirt (despite the fact that it's summer) and jeans. Besides the color, the only difference between what this man and what the woman wore was the fact that this man didn't have on an apron.

He stuck out his hand. "Miles Miller. But you can just call me Miles." He had a similar accent to his wife, but he seemed slightly less rural than her.

"Chris Haas," I replied, extending my hand for a handshake.

"That woman back there was my wife, Margaret. Welcome to our humble abode," he said, as he gestured to the rest of the house. "So, I heard ya needed a place to stay?"

I felt my cheeks blush. "Uh, yeah," I replied, still a little embarrassed at asking such a proposition. "Would that be OK with you, sir?"

Miles stared at me for a moment, presumably trying to judge my character. I could feel myself shaking, but I couldn't do anything to stop it. As every second passed, I became more and more doubtful that Miles would allow me to stay in his home, until finally I came to the foregone conclusion that I'd be turned down.

I was about to break the silence and say I'd be on my way when Miles spoke. "No, no, this just won't do…" he said, shaking his head disapprovingly.

My heart truly sank then. "Look, sir, I completely understand. I'm just a random kid who popped up on your doorstep, and if I was━"

I was cut off by hysterical laughing by Miles. I stared at him, perplexed, and raised an eyebrow. "Um, sir?"

"Nah, I'm just joshin' ya kid," Mile began. "You can stay here for the night. But please, you're not gonna look that nervous the entire time, are ya? I mean, heck, you were shaking more than a dance-lovin' Sudowoodo durin' a square dance!"

I let out a short laugh, half-nervous and half-fake. To be honest, that was one of the worst jokes I've ever heard (and I excel at telling bad jokes), but I didn't want to offend Miles. I mean, he is going to let me stay the night.

I stood in the doorway for a few more seconds, awkwardly, until Miles realized I was waiting on him. He motioned for me to follow him into the dining room.

"Uh, sir, should I take my shoes off here?" I asked. Despite the fact that they were allowing me to stay in their home, I still felt nervous about being with them, and my voice reflected that sentiment.

"Nah, you can keep 'em on. I mean, if ya wanna take 'em off then go right ahead, but it don't matter if you keep 'em on or not," Miles said. Not wanting to cause any kind of a burden for these people, I just went ahead and took off my shoes. They weren't really that muddy or anything, but I figured it'd be a kind gesture.

Miles pulled out a chair for me to sit in at the dining room table. "Thank you, sir," I said, still trying to maintain my politeness.

Miles left for the kitchen, and soon I was alone. I took off my backpack and set it on the floor. Not feeling comfortable wandering their house without their permission, I pulled out my trainer's guide and read up on the various agricultural practices of the area. Apparently, this area of Route 32 is well-known for their Mareep pastures. First I'd heard of that.

I began to read more when I noticed something orange walk over out of the side of my eye. I looked away from the book and found myself face-to-face with a Growlithe. We made eye contact and it began growling rather aggressively at me. Behind it, a small girl, maybe no more than 5, looked at me apprehensively.

I was about to say hello to the little girl (who looked scared to death of me), when Mrs. Miller walked into the dining room.

She noticed the fear in the little girls eyes and knelt down on one knee in front of her. "Oh, don't worry, honey. This boy is a trainer. He's gonna be stayin' with us overnight. Ya see, there's gonna be a real big storm ablowin' outside, and we don't want him to be stuck outside in that, now do we?"

The little girl looked panicked for a moment, as if searching for an answer, before her face lit up. "No, ma, we don't! 'Cuz we're Millers, and Millers are always nice to people in need of help!"

Mrs. Miller smiled. "Good, honey. Now go on back upstairs and play with Growlithe. OK?"

The little girl nodded, and yelled out "Come on, Growlithe!" before bounding up the steps and down the upstairs hallway.

Mrs. Miller took a seat at the dining room table. She smiled at me. "That's our little girl, Mary Beth. She's nice once ya get to know her, but she can get a little nervous around strangers. And Growlithe━while, he's like her best friend, and sometimes he can get a little aggressive around people he don't know."

I couldn't think of anything to say, and silence fell between us. It was only broken once Miles came in and sat down at the table with us.

"Well, the dinner's all cleaned up. Plates are in the dishwasher, honey," he said.

"Good," Mrs. Miller said. Despite their appearances, their house seemed pretty modern and they seemed to make a decent a wage, judging by what I could see of their kitchen and by the overall size of their two-story home.

Miles glanced at the clock on the wall. "Well, it's only 8 o'clock. Storm's not supposed to hit for another half hour or so. Guess I'll go corral all the Mareep into the barn. Can't have 'em out there in such a violent storm."

He got up and walked over to their back door, which was sliding glass. He called for Mary Beth's Growlithe, which quickly came bounding down the stairs and obediently sat at the door, ready to herd the Mareep. "Sir, wait! Can I help?" I asked. Despite the fact that the Millers were treating me so nicely, I still felt a need to prove myself and earn their hospitality.

Miles looked at me, surprised, before speaking. "Ya got any Pokémon?"

I stood up, and pulled back my coat to reveal the four Poké Balls on my belt. "Yes sir."

Miles stood there, thinking. "Well...yeah, I could probably use the help. You ever herded Mareep before?"

I shook my head. "No, sir. But I'm willing to try."

As we walked out to the pasture, Miles filled me in on how to herd the Mareep. He told me he'd take most of them, but that I could take a small group that were closest to the barn, only about 100 feet or so. Before heading over, I sent out my Pokémon.

I grabbed all four Poké Balls and sent my Pokémon out. I knelt down in front of them, but before I got a chance to explain anything Cyndaquil started freaking out. Shoot! I forgot that he's scared of the rain. Poor guy is probably having a heart attack right now.

I reached onto my belt to return him to his Poké Ball, but when I looked back he had vanished. I looked at Espeon, who pointed across the pasture. Sprinting away was Cyndaquil.
"Shoot. This is bad." I struggled to think up some kind of plan of action as I watched Cyndaquil sprint away. Alright, you three━Pidgey, Espeon, Chikorita━help herd up the Mareep. I'll go fill in Miles on what's happening," I said.

Leaving my Pokémon to do their jobs, I informed Miles of what was going on. I told him I was going to get Cyndaquil back. He began to say something, but I sprinted away before he could start. The longer we take to talk, the farther away Cyndaquil gets.

Through the rain and wind I struggled to keep my footing as I ran across the pasture. Luckily, Cyndaquil had left footprints through the mud that I could follow. To my chagrin, however, the visibility continued to drop until I couldn't see much more than fifteen or so feet in front of me.

I must've followed the footprints for at least fifteen minutes, each minute spent getting more and more soaked. Sure, my jacket's waterproof, but my pants aren't nor is my head. The warm summer heat had dropped and I found my soaked body getting a little chilly. As I took a temporary rest, I began to question the possibility of finding my Pokémon in this storm. How much more I can look for Cyndaquil? At this rate, I'm going to catch a cold, or worse. I mean, I'm already drenched everywhere but my midsection. At what point do I head back and give up for the night?

But then I pictured the mental image of Cyndaquil and Pidgey, together, shivering in the rain, alone and scared in the wilderness. And what if Pidgey lost Cyndaquil in the storm? I hope not, but one can wonder...

I shook the thought out of my head and with a renewed vigor continued the search. I picked my speed back up to a run. The rain and wind whipped into my face, but despite the adversity I kept following the tracks, until they started to disappear.

"What?! No!" I shouted, unable to contain my frustration. Apparently it's been raining for so long that the footprints have been washed away already. Still fuming, I kicked the nearest tree trunk. Big mistake. Instantly, excruciating pain overcame me, and I fell to the ground, clutching the toe of my left foot.

I could feel my toes throbbing. Tennis shoes are not steel-toed boots. In fact, they're probably the thinnest shoe you can have, so none of the force of that kick was absorbed by anything other than my toes. I chided myself at my extreme lack of control.

"Come on, Haas," I muttered. "Now you're out in the middle of a storm, lost, with two of your Pokémon out there somewhere, and oh yeah, now you probably broke your toes too. Nice work."

I tried to stand up, and found that I could, although the pain in my toes was pretty bad. Best-case scenario, some ice and a little rest and maybe it'll be OK within a few days. Worst-case? I have to spend a few weeks sidelined, with a full cast.

I limped over to a nearby rock and sat on top of it. I tried wiping the mud off myself, but it didn't really do much. Frustrated, I kicked the mud some more, and some of it even splashed up into the air.

"Cynda!"

I perked up at the surprised cry. "Cyndaquil?"

"Cynda? Cyndaquil!"

I peered through the rain, but couldn't see anything. Visibility has gotten even worse than before. I yelled out again. "Cyndaquil?"

Again, I heard a reply that sounded eerily like Cyndaquil. "Cynda! Cyndaquil!"

I got up off of the rock I was sitting on, and starting limping toward the voice. I took a few steps forward and tripped over something small, like a body. I landed in yet another mud puddle. Thankfully, I managed to avoid any injury. But it felt cold. And muddy, of course.

"Cynda!"

I wiped the mud off my face, and turned to find myself face-to-face with Cyndaquil. Muddy, and soaked, but overall alright "Buddy? Is that you?" I asked, excitedly.

"Cynda!" he replied, as he tackled me. I pulled him close, overjoyed to be reunited with my lost Pokémon. I could hear him sobbing into my chest. I tried my best to console him, but nothing in my schooling and nothing that my parents told me prepared me for a moment like this.

"It's OK, Cyndaquil," I said, trying to sound strong and protective, despite my inexperience in situations like this. "You're safe now. No one's going to hurt you; not this storm, and no wild Pokémon either. Don't worry."

Cyndaquil looked up at me, his eyes full of tears. Through the whipping rain, I could sense his fear, and I could feel him shaking. He sniffled, and I realized he was looking up at me for reassurance.

"Yes, Cyndaquil. Everything will be━"

I was cut off by another series of sobs. I simply pulled Cyndaquil closer, despite the fact that he was even muddier and more soaked than me. I stroked his back, hoping it would help him feel better.

"Let it out, Cyndaquil. You don't have to be scared anymore. I'm here."

Cyndaquil must've cried into my chest for at least a half an hour; I lost count, but he only stopped once the storm had lessened. Visibility increased, and for the first time I could actually make out the forest around me. Limbs were strewn across the forest floor, but the trees were all still firmly planted into the ground. Which was very muddy.

"Cyndaquil, I think it's time that we headed back. Is that OK?" I asked, trying to keep my voice as gentle as possible.

He looked up at me, his eyes red from crying, and slowly nodded. "Good," I said. "Now, I'm going to keep you in my arms the entire time we're gone. I'm never letting you go until we get back to the Millers' farmhouse. So you'll be safe."

I struggled to stand up, but when I finally did I found it not as much of a struggle to walk as it had been to stand up. I managed to keep most of the weight on my heel, which helped relieve the pain in the toes of my injured foot. Not knowing which exact direction I had come from, I judged an approximate direction I had come from and followed that. Unfortunately, the rain had washed away any footprints from me or Cyndaquil, and seeing that the sun had set, the pitch-black of night would've made any footprints nearly impossible to see.

I limped along for several minutes, until I came to a small clearing between the trees at the crest of a hill. A few hundred yards away I could make out the faint lights of what appeared to be...a farmhouse?

Is that the Millers' farmhouse? I asked myself. I guess so. Might as well head there.

Traversing downhill proved to be difficult. With Cyndaquil in my arms throwing off my center of gravity, and due to the fact that I had to walk on the heel of my left foot. I found myself quickly tiring out, and by the time I had reached the bottom, despite it only being about fifty yards I found myself, I was exhausted. I collapsed, still hugging Cyndaquil close to my chest.

"Cynda?" asked Cyndaquil, confused.

"Sorry, bud. I have to take a break. I hurt myself a little bit earlier, bud," I said.

"Cynda! Cyndaquil?" replied Cyndaquil, urgently.

I smiled reassuringly at Cyndaquil, but I doubted he could see my expression in the dark of night. "Don't worry. I'm fine. In fact, I should be asking you if you're OK."

Cyndaquil let out a soft cry that I took to symbolize he was OK, and he snuggled deeper into my arms. I started to stroke his back again to calm him, when I suddenly saw a light bouncing around off to my left. Instinctively, I jumped up at the sight, and a sharp pain echoed through my foot.

I let out a cry of pain, and the light moved towards my direction.

"Chris, is that you?"

When I heard the voice, I felt my worries melt away. "Miles! I'm over here," I yelled out. Following my voice, the light moved along the hillside until it pointed at me. I pulled up one arm to shield my eyes, and soon found Miles Miller himself standing in front of me. He was wearing a yellow overcoat, and he beamed at the sight of me.

"Boy, you had us goin' there, son! We thought we'd lost ya."

I motioned for Miles to help me up. He put away his flashlight and stuck out a hand. I grabbed it, and he pulled me up. Seeing me wince, concern washed over his face.

"Ya alright, son? Ya do somethin' to yourself?" Miles asked.

I felt myself blushing awkwardly; thank goodness Miles couldn't see. "I, uh, tripped and fell. My left foot came down hard on a rock. My toes hurt pretty bad, but it's nothing too much."

"Aw, heck it's nothing too much! Lemme help ya back to the farmhouse, and Margaret and I'll get ya all patched up. I see ya found your Cyndaquil, too," Miles said. He reached out an arm and helped support me so I didn't have to limp as badly.

"Yeah, he got scared by the storm. I should've known he would freak out, but━"

Miles cut me off, nudging me with his elbow. "Shh, son. Yer Cyndaquil's sleeping there."

I looked down, and sure enough, Cyndaquil was sound asleep in my arms. "Good for him," I whispered. "It's been a long day for all of us, but especially him."

Miles and I walked in silence for a long time after that, until we neared his farmhouse. "When we get inside, you can just take a seat in the living room, on the couch. Margaret'll tend to ya. Don't worry, she's a great nurse."

"Look, Miles," I started, feeling a little guilty at causing the Millers so much trouble. "I'm really sorry for causing you all this trouble, and━"

Miles interrupted me. "Now, looky here, son! You ain't causin' no more trouble than we can handle. And besides, it's the Miller family motto to help those in need. Trust me, son, we don't mind."

We reached the door, and Mrs. Miller burst out, along with the rest of my Pokémon. They stayed away when they realized how injured I was, but nonethless they still followed me when we got inside. "What happened, Miles?"

"I'll explain in a sec, Margaret. First, we gotta get Chris to the couch," Miles said. He helped me over to the living room, and I took off my soaking jacket. While the Millers looked away, I pulled out a pair of pajama pants from my backpack and changed out of my shorts. I took a towel Mrs. Miller had given me and wiped most of the mud off of me and dried off. With myself all cleaned up (mostly), I gently sat down on the couch. Miles pulled over a small ottoman, and I propped my left leg up on it. "Margaret, can ya go and get some ice for Chris?"

"Sure, thing, honey," she said as she hurried off into the kitchen. As we waited for her to return, Miles helped take my shoe off. I stifled myself from crying out in pain, but it definitely hurt.

Once the shoe came off Miles and I both looked at my toes; they were black and blue, and a swollen, but they didn't appear to be broken or anything. You definitely dodged a bullet there, Haas.

"Well, don't look too bad, actually," Miles said. "Just bruised pretty bad. A few days of icing and maybe just be careful and it should be back to normal pretty soon, son."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Are you sure?"

Miles smiled at me reassuringly. "Don't worry, son. I've seen my fair share of injuries and mishaps while livin' out here on the farm. Don't look too bad to me. But you'll have to stay here a few days to recover; I am not sendin' you out there with a bum foot."

"Wait, Miles, that's not necessary. Really, I'll be fine out there," I said.

"Nope, nope, nope. You are gonna stay right here until you heal up. No buts about it," Miles said. His tone and his face both show that there's no wiggle room with that.

"Thank you very much, Miles. None of this is necessary, and I really can't thank you enough for taking me in and caring for me like this," I said.

Miles smiled as Margaret came back in and taped a large bag of ice to my foot. "Please, stop sayin' thank you son. Really, we don't mind!" He looked at the wall clock, which now showed it was well after 10 o'clock at night. "Look, why don't ya get some rest, though. We'll be upstairs if ya need anything; just holler. Alright?"

"Understood. Thank you, sir."

As Miles turned off the lights and both him and Mrs. Miller headed upstairs for the night, my Pokémon came and laid down on the floor next to me. I noticed they were all cleaned up, even Cyndaquil; apparently Mrs. Miller had cleaned him up when I wasn't paying attention.

"I missed you guys, too. But everything's alright now. The family's all back together, safe and sound."

AN: I hope nobody was offended by the rural accents! I only wanted to make the characters seem more believable and real, and I apologize if feel offended in any way, shape, or form. On a lighter note, though, feel free to leave a review! I love the feedback!

Oh, and the Chapter 2 rewrite has just been posted! The retcons include the following: Eevee does not evolve in Chapters 1 or 2, and Frank starts with a Poliwag and Cyndaquil instead of a Dratini and Cyndaquil. Also, things have been slowed down a lot. If you want (and it's recommended) go back and read the new and updated chapter! Honestly, I think you'll enjoy it. And it's not super long either, not like some of my chapters have been. Granted, remember that although I had the leeway of Chapters 1-3, I couldn't overhaul everything completely, so please keep that in mind before you judge.

If anyone caught the fact that I called Margaret Miller "Mrs. Miller" despite knowing her first name; that's to show Chris as being polite.