Ebgin awoke the next morning and lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. He did not know what he had expected, but he hadn't expected nothing at all. He'd acted according to what he said he'd do: He didn't go meet Tarah at Billows Field. He had instead gone straight home. He'd also texted Nancy and they had decided to meet and have a day out together. So there, Tarah. He wasn't going to be bullied, not beyond the boundaries of what he could accept. It was just like Tolby had said. Ebgin was the only one who had to live forever with his own choices.

So why did his chest feel so tight?

Ebgin showered and dressed and came downstairs feeling refreshed. His worry about the future dwindled as he considered the day's plans. He and Nancy. Just the two of them!

As he hit the bottom step the smell of eggs and bacon reached him. "Hey, Mamma, Pop." The house was quiet. He walked across the carpet in his socks and tilted his head to look into the kitchen through the counter window. No one was there. Father wasn't in his chair, either. Ebgin turned his head about, searching, as he approached the table. There was a plate there with a napkin over it, and a letter atop the napkin. He got on the chair on his knees and leaned over the note.

"Ebgin, we're going shopping in the square today. Don't forget your chores, and have fun. We'll call you on your PokeGear if we need anything.

P.S. Please take the crate to the shop. Your father was repairing some of the damaged goods and insisted on taking it home instead of working on it at the store.
Love you,
Mother and Father."

That was typical. Ebgin was mildly disappointed. He hadn't thought it consciously, but he had wanted to see a friendly face. Tarah may have been mean and uncaring, but he didn't hate her. He felt like he was in a fight with a good friend and he didn't know how it would end. He needed a friendly face right now.
Ebgin looked around but didn't see the crate. It was probably next to the door which he couldn't quite see with the wall in the way. He opted to eat his breakfast first before worrying about it. With light beaming gaily through the kitchen window, filtered pink through mother's choice of sheer curtains, and the cool still air running crisp into his lungs, the lonely breakfast was quaint and relaxing.

The food was just what he needed to completely restore his spirits. He cleaned his dishes and put them away, humming merrily to himself all the while. He dried his hands on a dish rag he took from the wooden cradle on the wall above the sink. Tossing it into the sink to be used later, he exited the kitchen.
The crate was sitting by the door. He skipped past it, opening the inner door first and fetching the shop key from the key-hook in the vestibule. Then he opened the outer door and left it open so he could get through while carrying the crate.

Ebgin then sat down in front of his shoes. When Ebgin removed his shoes, he always untied them fully, then slipped them off. When he put them on again, he had to retie them every time. It was something Pop had trained into him: Don't be lazy, don't do things halfway or carelessly.
Shoes on, Ebgin went to fetch the crate. Another thing Pop had ensured to teach him was proper form. Pop wasn't afraid to stop Ebgin altogether, take him aside and demonstrate exactly how to do something, how to lift, or carry, or catch. Those lessons were always in Ebgin's mind when he worked. In a way, it made him feel close to his father, as if he were nearby, reminding him how to do things.

Ebgin kept his back straight, bent his knees, grabbed hold of the crate with his hands and lifted it straight up with the strength 0f his legs.
He set the crate onto the ground just outside the door, then went back in and closed the inner and outer doors, not bothering to lock them. Ebgin had lived there all of his life and never had they been robbed. His folks usually didn't lock the door, either.

Hefting the crate again, he started the long way down to the shop. There was a dolly around the side of the house but he didn't bother with it. The crate wasn't especially heavy and he didn't feel like bringing the dolly back.

The day was cool and the sun was out. Only a few puffy clouds dotted a strikingly blue sky. As Ebgin passed Billows Field, he couldn't resist looking out over the grassy plain. It was a relief to not see Tarah. He had imagined her still standing there since the night before, becoming more and more vengeful with every passing minute that he left her there alone. It was just a thought and she almost certainly did not wait very long, but he still managed to make himself feel guilty.

When he arrived at the shop, he bent and set the crate on the ground, delved in his pocket for the key, unlocked the door and opened it. Holding the door open with his foot, he twisted his upper body and bent to grab the crate. A pair of feet were standing on the dirt path. Ebgin stared for a moment. He knew those sandals, wrapping criss-cross with leather strings up to mid-calf. He didn't think, he just looked up and hoped for the best.

Tarah had her hands crossed over her stomach. "You weren't at Billows Field."

It wasn't a question. Ebgin searched for some of the fire he'd had the day before to fight against the fear he suddenly felt. He found it. She had tried to force him to do something he knew was wrong, against his very parents! He managed to whip himself up into a frenzy far faster than he had expected. A part of him wanted to lash out, to go on the offensive, but that wasn't really in him. He preferred to give her the benefit of a doubt. He suppressed the frustration and anger. He only needed just enough.

"Yeah. I'm sorry." His words were apologetic, but his tone was not. It was careful, deliberate. He wanted her to know that he felt bad for his decision, but he wasn't going to retract it. If she didn't respond well to that statement, then it'd be trouble, and he had Spark with him. Not that it'd be enough.

"It's alright," Tarah said, completely throwing off Ebgin's expectations. "I shouldn't try to push you too quickly. If you're not comfortable doing something, I cannot force you."

Ebgin was too stunned to say anything for a moment. All of that worrying he did last night, all of the courage and fire he had to muster just now, and she was just going to act reasonable and kind? This was almost unacceptable!

While he floundered for words, Tarah was getting that grin on her face again, the one that made Ebgin unsure if she wanted to hug him or eat him. "Little Ebgin, how about this: You come hang out at the office on Saturday afternoons. It will be a substitute for our training, and you can get some experience on the job."

Ebgin was ready to flat-out refuse, just to be contrary and assert his free will, but he considered it first. It wouldn't get in the way of his studies, and he wouldn't have to sneak out. Plus, he'd get to see Tolby and Wisperal again, both of whom he liked. There seemed to be no down side to argue against, other than sheer obstinance.

That was something else his father had taught him: Be obstinate, but do what you know you should do. Ebgin knew that this was a peace offering of sorts, and when it came to Tarah, he wanted peace.

"Alright," he finally said. "Thanks, Tarah. I'm glad you're still my teacher."

Tarah came in and abruptly wrapped an arm around Ebgin's neck, pulling his face to her bosom in what Ebgin's frantic mind immediately asserted was definitely nothing other than a friendly hug. A very, very uncomfortable, embarrassing, friendly hug. His arms waved out to the sides as he was pulled forward and off balance, and then she was just holding him like that, his cheek pressed against something firm but soft. His mind went blank for a few blissful, confusing moments. His face flushed as red as a delibird's pelt.

"Oh, little Ebgin," Tarah cooed, squeezing him tightly, twisting left and right, wrenching him lovingly against her. "I knew you would accept my invitation. You're going to do great things, child. Great things."

Sure, yes, great things. Absolutely. Just as long as you let go. Or don't let go ever.

Tarah released him and it was simultaneously a relief and a disappointment.

"I'm going, now. I need to arrange a more formal meeting with the team leaders and you. Have fun on your date."

"O.K., thanks-" Ebgin paused. How did she know about that? He hadn't told her about it, or anyone for that matter. She sauntered off down the road, then moved into a jog, her long braid bouncing behind her. She seemed almost girlish. It must have made her really happy that Ebgin accepted that job.

Well, he would have liked to ask her how she knew about his date-or play date, as he concluded it to be- with Nancy, but it wasn't going to happen now. It was probably just a mother's intuition type of thing, anyway. Ebgin put his hand to his cheek. The flesh felt hot beneath his palm. Geez. What was he supposed to think about that? Maybe he was just being perverted and she was totally innocent. Ebgin didn't like the idea that he was a pervert. He liked to think of himself as a good person, and those kinds of thoughts weren't appropriate. Especially at his age.

He tried not to think about it as he opened the door again and lifted the crate. The closed shop was one of his favorite places to be. The smell of pine floorboards hung in the air. With the lights off, only natural sunlight illuminated the room, and only dimly, poking its beams through the small triangular window on the door. Ebgin shut the door behind him and stood silently, still holding the crate. He drew in a breath, smelling the pine and the scent of new merchandise. It was difficult to describe what
Ebgin felt here. Stillness. Solitude. Comfort. He was reminded of Tarah's cottage in the forest with the pool of water and the tame Pokemon milling about and the leaves making shadows on the ground between the flecks of sunlight. He wanted something like this one day. He wanted to be a trainer and travel and adventure and discover and fight; but he wanted this, too.

After putting away the crate in the storage room behind the counter, he checked his PokeGear. It was eleven. He was going to meet Nancy at noon in the town square.
He should get back home and get ready. Before leaving he threw the light-switch and opened the door, turning halfway out to check the room. He saw Pokemon merchandise, a line of pinwheels on one shelf, and some mostly sold imported candy under the counter that Mother was proud to have gotten. Everything looked good.

He slapped the light-switch down and shut the door, locking it.

Ebgin stood in the square, looking about. He had seen his parents just as they were departing and greeted them. When they left he searched for Nancy a bit, but didn't see her. She must have not been there yet. He checked the PokeGear on his left wrist. It was five minutes early, so it made sense. He had not told his parents about his date-or uh, his play date with Nancy. He wasn't intentionally avoiding telling them, it's just that it never came up. It probably would never, ever come up.

He spotted some boys he recognized from school, three of them. They were hunched over a circle in the dirt just near the edge of the rock-platformed square, shooting marbles. Another look around told him Nancy was still not there, so Ebgin moseyed on over and joined the group to watch.

"Hey, Ebgin," one boy in a red t-shirt said. Jaster, Ebgin recalled his name. "You getting in on this? The folks aren't around so we're playing for keeps!"

"No, I'm waiting for someone," Ebgin said, watching a boy wearing a nice suit and jacket trying to kneel low enough to aim his shot, but not so low as to scuff the knees of his pants. His name was Eric. Ebgin knew the face of the other one but couldn't place his name.

Ebgin watched them for a bit, a part of him wishing he'd brought a few marbles.

Jaster stood suddenly as one of his marbles went rolling out of the circle. "Aw, how'd you make that shot in that awkward stance!"

Eric stood too, dusting himself. "Nothing but skill," he said, looking pleased with himself.

The boy whose name Ebgin did not know began retracing the circle with his finger, sticking his tongue out in concentration and closing one eye for precision. "Yeah, yeah, the kind of skill that don't take nothin' but luck," he said around his tongue. "My old man tells me all about his skill whenever he wins at Voltorb Flip, and then he tells me the game was rigged whenever he loses."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jaster asked, squatting down on his haunches to survey the layout of the marbles.

"It means I know luck when I see it."

Eric scoffed. "Let's see you do better."

"Maybe I will." He produced a big turquoise "toebreaker" marble and grinned.

About that time, a voice came from behind Ebgin, calling his name. His heart leaped with excitement as he turned. Nancy stood there in a white sundress with a yellow sunflower pattern. The skirt hung about her knees, gently billowing and creasing as whatever gentle breeze went by. Atop her head was a cloth hat with a high crown and short brim that angled down. It was pulled down low, almost covering her whole forehead. Her short brown hair came down out the hat reaching just below her jaw and curving toward her chin. She had one of those purses in her hand, a white one without a strap that you just clutch. He couldn't remember what they were called.

"Nancy," Ebgin replied curtly, and said nothing more because he was too entranced by her appearance. He felt suddenly underdressed, even though she was just as informally dressed as he was.

"What are you doing all the way over here?" She leaned over to one side, tilting her head. Her hair sagged downward, but still retained a gentle curve, trying to defy gravity. "Oh, are you playing marbles? May I join?"

"Uh, sure," Jaster said, seeming surprised.

"She aint got any marbles on her, prob'ly," said the one who'd redrawn the line.

"Oh, that's fine, Pete," said Eric, smirking. "You can lend her one of yours."

"Would you?" Nancy said hopefully, besetting him with wide eyes.

Pete was on his knees and he looked up at her, then looked down again, then off to the side. Anywhere but at Nancy, it seemed. Ebgin couldn't blame her. He wouldn't want to try resisting anything she asked, either.

"Aw, aw'right, but this is for keeps, so anything you get with my marble goes to me."

Nancy clapped her hands twice and started toward them. "Lovely!"

Well, Ebgin didn't have many preconceived notions about girls and their skill at marbles, but he imagined that no one could have been expected to play as good as she did. She knocked two marbles out on her first shot, then another, and missed on her third shot.

Eric managed to snag the marble she'd left in the circle, but a couple of rounds later and she managed to get it back. When she did, she stood suddenly, pressed her arms closely against her chest. "Oh! I did it! There you go, Pete!" She spread her arms excitedly. "You're back to where you were."

"You're pretty good!" He said with equal enthusiasm.

"I bet she takes lessons," Eric said.

"For marbles?" Jaster said skeptically. "I've never heard of such a thing."

"Well, I must go now," Nancy declared and received a cacophony of protesting groans.

Ebgin felt a swelling of pride. Nancy was his best friend, and she was amazing! She could play marbles and get along with anyone. And she was pretty, too.

"I wish I could, but Ebgin and I have plans, you know."

The three boys looked over at Ebgin with these knowing gazes, and Ebgin did not misinterpret their meaning. Blushing, looked off to the side, pretending something had caught his eye.

"Alright, then," Eric said. "You two have fun."

"Yeah," said Pete as Nancy stood and advanced toward Ebgin, patting the dust from the bottom of her dress.

"Oh, goodness. I'm all dirty, now. I hope Father won't be too displeased when I come home in this state."

"I think you'll be fine. You just look at him with those big brown eyes of yours and he'll be powerless."

"Do you think so?"

"It worked on Pete." Ebgin laughed. Nancy joined him.

For thirty minutes they walked about, wandering in and out of shops, greeting various people they knew in the crowd, pointing at things they wanted and just generally enjoying themselves. Ebgin could have gone on like that forever. He could almost have given up his dream as a Pokemon trainer in exchange for this. Almost.

His PokeGear suddenly beeped and he checked his wrist. It was his parents asking him to to come by and grab something to bring to the shop. Ebgin's disappointment was evidence on his face.

"What's wrong?" Nancy asked with concern.

"Oh, my parents need me to do something for them. I don't want you to have to have to wait around here, so-"

"I'll come with you!"

Ebgin had hoped she would say that, despite his polite offer to let her go. He smiled. "Really?"

"Of course. I'd love to meet your parents, too. I'm sure they're wonderful."

"They are," he assured her. "I think you'll like them. They can be funny when they want to be." Ebgin knew that funny among family and funny among strangers was different, but he hoped that Nancy would understand. "Let's go, then. It won't take long, and then we have the rest of the day to do whatever."
"It doesn't matter what we do, as long as we're together."

The words were powerful and Ebgin felt them right in his chest. Was she-was she maybe hinting that, possibly, she would want to be his girlfriend? Oh, but he was, they were both too young. Surely she didn't have that kind of thing on her mind. He thought that, but when he looked, her cheeks were red and she could seem to look right at his eyes.

Feeling emboldened by her sudden bashfulness, Ebgin held out his elbow, saying, "Shall we?"

Nancy hardly hesitated to clasp her left hand gently on his inner elbow. They both became quiet. They remained silent and stiff, avoiding each others' gaze as they made their way to the path toward Ebgin's house.