Chapter I: The Wrong Foot
Dear Journal,
I wish I could live on the Moon. Don't you? It's so cool. It takes so many shapes and styles, changing color every once in a while. I've always been more of a morning person, but I love watching the Moon when it decides to show. The Moon has moods, just like me. I find that fascinating.
We have so much in common yet nothing in common at all. That doesn't make much sense, I know. But neither does the world. It feels like we are everything and nothing at the same time. Maybe I'm alone in that thinking. I bet the Moon would understand me. I want to learn to communicate.
What would my first question be? "Where do you go once the Sun starts its shift?" Do I even want to know? If I lived on the Moon, I'd plant a flower, one that would make it shine that much brighter. If I lived on the Moon, I'd turn one of its craters into a swimming pool. I'd create my own signature diving move – something with moon in the name; I'll think of it later.
I hope the Moon would have me as a guest. I want it to know that it's loved, by someone, anyone here on Earth. I'm not sure if it knows its own worth. Or maybe it does. I shouldn't assume. Mom says it makes a "you-know-what" out of you and me. I'm tired of hearing it, but it's kinda clever.
She's been different since we moved from Viridian. We all have, I think. I'm learning to embrace the unknown a little more each day. Took me a while, but I'm finally getting the hang of it. I thought I'd hate it here in Violet City. The Kanto region was my home for over 16 years. All my favorite memories are there. I think I miss Viridian Forest the most.
The day we left I ran off into the forest with tears in my eyes. They searched for me for "what felt like ten lifetimes," as Dad described. Leaving was never part of my plans. I pictured us living in Kanto forever. But I saw something that day that made me feel less afraid. At the center of the forest, underneath a giant Honey tree, were two Pikachu. One had picked some Berries for its mate. They were the cutest little couple I had ever seen!
Before that day I had never encountered two Pikachu in the same day. They were always too darn quick. At first, I thought it was simply my lucky day. But as time went on, it felt more like a symbol for something greater. I doubt I'll ever know the meaning for sure. But for now, it feels like discovery can only come from embracing the unk…
Three light knocks came outside my bedroom door. My blue ink pen nestled between the pages of my Pokémon Trainer's Journal. Mom began her morning routine check-up. She has to ensure everyone else is awake and on schedule. She is promptness personified.
"Maya? Maya, honey, the shower is all yours."
"Okay, Mommy. I'll be right out."
"I'm going to start making breakfast. Could you please get your brother out of bed if he isn't already? I don't have time for his shenanigans this morning."
Once I heard that (for the fourth time this week, I might add) my natural reaction was to roll my eyes as far back into their sockets as possible. I cracked the door and poked my head out.
"Again? Do I have to? He's the worst, Mom. He really is."
"Your brother is not the worst," she corrected, "he's the best brother you'll ever have."
She put on her biggest and brightest motherly smile while I unloaded my rebuttal.
"It's easy being the best when there's no competition."
"Hey," she joked, "that's my son you're talking about."
I heard my brother's voice behind his door. "Yeah, you tell her, Ma!" She let out a quick laugh before going into full parent mode. "Trevor Milano!" Her brief lecture began with one of my all-time favorites: the middle-name dagger. I hardly ever got that treatment. Trevor, on the other hand, might as well have changed his first name to Milano. I knew my role and I played it well. Trevor loved to toe the line. We may look identical, but we are nothing alike.
Anyway, I decided to throw a curveball into this week's sunrise sermon by attempting to bust into Trevor's room. Luckily for him, it was locked. I always imagined kicking down his door and catching him doing something strange that I could harass him about for the rest of our lives. Alas, I'll have to wait for another opportunity.
About 25 minutes later, Mom had breakfast all ready to go. She's a wizard in the kitchen. It's no wonder Dad locked her up at such an early age. Mom, Trevor and I sat down, diving face-first into our food – all three of us.
"Aren't you two excited that you're almost finished training at the Pokémon School? It's been a long journey for both of you," said Mom.
"You ain't lyin'," said Trevor. "Seven years of lectures on every single little detail gets really old really fast. Old Man Earl has practically lost his mind by now! All I need are some fully-evolved Pokémon and I'm ready to kick some Trainer butt. No one can stop me from collecting the rarest and strongest Pokémon and defeating all th—"
"Yeah, yeah, we've all heard this one before," I interrupted. Speaking of something getting really old really fast, Trevor's unjustified amount of confidence made my patience run thin. All he ever talked about is how powerful his Pokémon are going to be and how no one will ever stop him from beating all eight Johto Gym Leaders, and then going back to Kanto and being crowned the greatest Pokémon Champion of all-time. Today, I had had enough.
"Trev, you do realize that every kid ever thinks they're going to beat the Elite Four and be named the world's greatest Pokémon Trainer, right?"
"Well, um, I mean, yeah I guess. But that doesn't mean that I wo—"
"Yes, it does," I blurted. "It does mean that you're setting your standards way too high. You should just settle for trying to defeat one Gym Leader. After that, then maybe you'll see just how much work it takes before anyone in Johto considers you great."
"Like father, like daughter." I felt my father's comforting hand on my shoulder. A wave of warmth and happiness came over me. I instantly hopped out of my chair and hugged him.
"Daddy!" He kissed me on the forehead, playfully rubbed Trevor's head and walked over to Mom. He kissed her on the lips.
"Your sister has a good point," Dad said, his eyebrows slightly raised. "You will achieve many great things on your Pokémon journey; I'm sure of that. But be careful not to get ahead of yourself, son. Take it one step at a time and greatness will follow."
"I know, Dad," Trevor sighed. He quickly reclaimed his self-assurance. "Are you afraid that I'm going to be a better Pokémon Trainer than you ever were?" He pointed to the sky and puffed out his chest. Dad snickered in amusement.
"The day you beat me in a battle is the day your sister eats a whole plate of Brussels sprouts."
Just the thought of Brussels sprouts brought me to the verge of vomiting. With a nauseated face, I reacted to my indirect inclusion in this battle of egos.
"Um, yeah, how about never." The whole table laughed.
"So tell me, kids," Dad inquired, "what exactly has Mr. Earl been teaching you lately?"
I proceeded to fill my father in on all the recent lessons we've been taught. So far, we had mastered type effectiveness, same-type attack bonuses, traditional and elemental battle strategies, how to use healing and battle Items, Berry harvesting; basically everything we needed to know before we start our own Pokémon adventures.
As whacky as Mr. Earl can be at times, he sure knows his stuff. He's a lot less old-fashioned than the teachers we had back in Kanto. Schools back home were about memorization, multi-tasking and uniforms. I didn't notice how robotic my life was until I was forced to change.
After the crime group known as Team Rocket was expelled from Kanto, and our Viridian Gym Leader, Giovanni, was sentenced to a lengthy stay in prison, we decided it was time to move. It was a sad, sad day.
When I first heard the news that Uncle Gio was the head of Team Rocket, I was practically traumatized. Even if Giovanni was one of the most crooked men to ever live in Kanto, that couldn't erase the fact he did so much for the city. All of his dirty money was put right back into making Viridian a better, cleaner and safer place to live.
Sure, it was mostly for selfish reasons since his Gym and grandfather resided there. (I learned how to catch my very first Pokémon from him!) But he and my dad were childhood friends, and he always made sure we were taken care of. He was such a sweetheart to me and my brother. Now I don't know if either of us will ever see him again. It's been quite some time, and with our eighteenth birthdays coming up soon, celebrating hasn't been the same without him.
"Wow, that's quite a lot of studying you two have done! I'm so proud of you both. That Mr. Earl is a character but he sure knows his stuff." Dad put on a great big smile as he pushed his chair back. I love his smile. It's one of my first memories. It makes me feel like everything is going to be alright, like I can do anything as long as I keep a smile on my face.
"Speaking of stuff, I am stuffed. Thank you for the wonderful meal, mi amor. I must be heading out now. Don't want to be late to work!"
I always hated when he left. Dad is a busy man. I understood that. But it was still disappointing to see him go. He is at home more than he used to be, though. Back in Kanto we would only see him on weekends because he had, like, three jobs. After his Trainer days were over, he started working at the local Poké Mart. Eventually, he landed a manager spot. A few months later, he became site manager! He oversaw all of the Mart's transactions and inventory. Needless to say, once we finally get going on our journey we'll be set in the Items department.
As soon as Dad was getting ready to walk out the door he turned to us. "You know what, how about I walk you guys to school today? I'm sure the Mart will be fine without me for a few minutes." Trevor and I's faces lit up as we frantically collected our things and rushed to the front door.
"Don't forget your journal, baby," Mom said.
"Oh," I froze in place for a moment and backtracked to the kitchen, "thanks Mommy!" I gave her a kiss on her cheek while Dad and Trevor waved goodbye. I could already tell this was going to be a great day.
My brother and I managed to survive Dad's onslaught of rapid-fire nuggets of wisdom on the walk to school. Since we usually didn't get to see him for long, he tends to overload us with fatherly advice. It got a little overwhelming on occasion, but he meant well.
"Oh! And one more thing before I say hello to Mr. Earl," Dad remembered. We were only a few paces away from the school's front door where Mr. Earl stood each morning to greet students as they walked into class.
"Yes, Dad?" we said.
"Don't ever judge a Pokémon by its appearance. Some Pokémon are strong like Tyranitar or Machamp, while others are weak like Caterpie and Weedle. Ah, but who is to say only the strong survive?"
"We're here, Dad. What's your point?" Trevor asked, extracting our father's last piece of advice before anyone else heard his babbling.
"My point is," he continued, "life is not merely a test of strength. It is a test of wit, will and determination. Not all Pokémon are built for strength. Some are fast, some are sturdy and some are clever. Using different types of Pokémon is important, of course, but within each creature is their own unique Nature. Get to know your Pokémon for more than just typing, attack moves and inconvenient physical labor! Understand them for who they are as an individual. Do that, and I guarantee your companions will love you to the Moon and back!"
We heard a familiar voice coming from behind us. "Your father makes a valid point, you know." It was none other than Mr. Earl: Pokémon Scholar. He refused to let us call him a Pokémon Professor because of his great respect for Professor Elm of this region and Professor Oak of Kanto. They're basically Pokémon gurus. "Pokémon are our friends. I know you hear that a lot, but as I always say: Repetition is the father of learning… Pun intended." He winked at me and my brother. We couldn't help but laugh during our eye rolls.
"Thanks for the tip, Dad. We'll see you tonight, love you!" Trevor and I gave him a tight hug as we strolled to our assigned seats.
"Love you guys too. Now have a great last week of school!" He waved goodbye and gently tugged at Mr. Earl's sleeve. "Mr. Earl, I hate to keep you from starting class but may I have a word with you outside? It'll be quick, I promise."
"Why, of course, Sergio!" Earl gleefully responded and notified the class of his decision. "Attention, class! I will be having a word with my good friend Sergio for a moment. Please remain relatively quiet while we wait for the Blackthorn City group to get here."
Seeing a parent pull your teacher outside to talk, even for a moment, was scary. In a sudden panic I tried to remember anything bad I've said or done in this classroom.
Oh, geez. Could this be about the time I slapped Joey for checking me out? O-Or what about the time I beat Abigail three Pokémon to none and laughed in her face? Oh, no! Or what if it's about the one time I-
"Hello: Earth to Maya!" My brother's voice fluctuated in my ear until I snapped back to reality.
"Yeah! What do you want?" Being familiar with my mood swings, he quickly shrugged off my attitude.
"Did you hear what Mr. Earl said? Something about a group from Blackthorn City; isn't that where the final Gym is located?"
I was surprised he knew anything about a city other than his own.
"Oh, yeah, you're right! I think I remember Mr. Earl saying something a few weeks ago about a group of kids from another school coming to visit us."
"Well, I'm sure you have it written in your notes somewhere. Ya know, since you copy down every word that man says. . . . Nerd."
"Calling me a nerd is not an insult, Trevor. It's a compliment. When are you going to get that through your pea-sized brain? Nerds go on to be the smart people in society who make innovative discoveries and progressi—"
"You know, Ms. Rodriguez," Mr. Earl added, "although you are correct in your defense of these so-called 'nerds,' matching your brother insult for insult is neither innovative nor progressive."
I hung my head in shame. "I know, Mr. Earl. He just annoys the crap out of me."
"Trust me, dear. I know exactly what you mean."
All those who heard our conversation started giggling.
"I'm only kidding, of course, Mr. Rodriguez."
"You know me, Mr. Earl, I can take a joke!"
"Precisely, thank you." Mr. Earl bent down slightly to talk to me and my brother personally. "Now, I don't want either of you to worry about the conversation your father and I just had. He simply asked about our final week rubric and how each of you is doing in the class, nothing bad." His warm smile justified his statements.
"That's a relief," I remarked, grabbing my journal from my backpack.
"Oh, and one more thing: Your father wanted me to inform you that you'll be having a dinner guest this evening from the Blackthorn City school. He met him at the Poké Mart yesterday morning. I believe his name is Damion."
Trevor and I faced each other with bewildered expressions. Mr. Earl proceeded to begin class.
"Alright, everyone, settle down please!" He quickly cleared his throat. "Now, today is a big day for all of us! I told you a few weeks ago that during our last week of class, we will be having a few visitors. Those visitors come from Blackthorn City, home of the dragon-users, led by none other than the Dragon Empress herself, Clair!"
My closest classroom friend, Stephanie, raised her hand as soon as she heard the name Clair.
"Ms. Williams, you have a question?" Earl said.
"Yes, Mr. Earl. Did you just say Clair, the Blackthorn City Gym Leader, one of the greatest Dragon trainers to ever live, is going to be in this classroom? I'm, like, in total shock right now."
Mr. Earl let out his jolly chuckle and confirmed his previous statement.
"Yes that is correct, Ms. Williams. Clair is a good friend of mine! I remember her when she was still an eager teenager much like all of you. She and the honorable Dragon Master Lance were mentored by leaders of the legendary Dragon Tamer Clan. She became the first and so far only female Leader of the Blackthorn City Gym."
Three steady pounds shifted our attention to the school's side door. The class went quiet as a majestic face stared into the door's small square window. It was her. Everyone, including Mr. Earl, was glued in place. Stephanie was the first to snap out of it.
"I'll get the door!" she exclaimed, sprinting to her idol. As soon as Steph began reaching for the door knob, we heard a Poké Ball burst open followed by an abrupt stream of flames that blocked her path. "Hey!" Stephanie shouted angrily. "What was that for? You could've burned off my hand!"
Mr. Earl's classroom assistant, Charles the Charmeleon (a bipedal reptilian Flame Pokémon with candy-apple scales and a flame-tipped tail), always marched to the beat of his own drum. He frequently released himself from his Poké Ball to keep a loud student quiet, save fragile things from breaking or just to stretch. This time, however, he wanted to be first. He speed-walked over to Stephanie, looked deep into her eyes and put his left claws gently on her shoulder.
"Char. Char, Charmeleon." Charles escorted Steph to her seat and then walked back towards the door in reverse to avoid burning anyone with his tail flame from pivoting. Once the path was clear, Charmeleon about-faced, unlocked the door and finally opened it.
"Well! I see you've taught Charles here more manners than your own students, Mr. Earl!" Clair joked. She patted the Flame Pokémon's head as he was engulfed by his Poké Ball's red light beam.
"Uh, yes, Ms. Clair; I do humbly apologize for taking so long to answer your knocks. It seems as though we all got a little star struck seeing you in the window!" Clair chuckled once more.
"Me? A star? Nonsense. I am merely a servant to the great region of Johto."
Stephanie's leg bounced with excitement. I knew it was only a matter of seconds before she proclaimed her love for Clair.
"M-M-Ms. Clair! My name is Stephanie Williams," she announced, nearly falling out of her seat. "I'm, like, your biggest fan, like, ever. I made my parents buy the Blackthorn Gym Pass so I can watch all of your battles from home! You're such an inspiration to not just me but to every girl who wants to become a great Pokémon Trainer. You were the first woman to defeat multiple Elite Four members. You were the first woman to win her first ten Gym battles. You were the first w—"
I had heard all of this information a million times from Steph. But this is why she studied Clair so meticulously – for this very moment. Clair's face was priceless. She seemed to be eating up every word. When you've accomplished as much as she has in your lifetime, it's nice to know someone out there appreciates you.
As Steph rambled my mind began to wander. So did my eyes. I peered through the half-open door. There were a handful of kids outside still waiting to be called inside. It was a group of mostly boys. Many of them wore similar attire: graphic tees or hoodies with various Dragon-type Pokémon across the front, cargo or jean shorts, and the newest, coolest sneakers. A few of them had tattoos. Lucky them. I've been begging my parents to let me get one for years. They think it would make me look like one of those Biker girls. I didn't see the problem with that.
There was one student that stood out from the rest. He was a little bit taller than all the others with a darker complexion. Trevor and I were the darkest kids in the class, and we rarely saw people walking around Viridian or Violet City who were darker than us. His hair was braided straight back. He was the only student wearing pants.
"Oh, shoot!" I whispered, swiveling my head back to center. He caught me peering.
"I'm sorry, miss… Stephanie, was it?"
"Yes! That's me!" Steph replied to her idol, grinning from ear to ear.
"Splendid. I hate to cut you off, and I'm very flattered by all the wonderful things you've said about me, but I think it's time for us to begin class."
"Oh." Steph's face became emotionless for a moment. "Sorry about my babbling. I tend to do that. Carry on!"
"Thank you, dear." Clair walked to the door and motioned her students to enter the classroom.
"Pokémon Academy students: These are the Blackthorn City Dragon Tamer finalists!" Clair proudly said. She entered a brief monologue:
"Pokémon Trainers from all over the world come to Blackthorn City to see if they have what it takes to properly tame and train the powerful, mystical Dragon-type Pokémon that dwell within our Dragon's Den. Ace Trainers, former Champions, Rich Boys and Girls, world renown Scientists and more all come in hope that their child possesses the skill and determination to be accepted into our Dragon Tamer School.
Upwards of 50,000 applications are processed each year. Yet only about two dozen students are accepted. Even fewer students pass the final stage of initiation. Standing before you is the highest-scoring class in the Dragon Tamer School's nine-year history. I will now introduce to you all 12 of this year's finalists. Class, please form a line in front of Mr. Earl's desk."
At this point I couldn't care less about whom most of these kids were. All I wanted to know was which one was Damion. Clair listed off each student's accomplishments and test scores – basically everything except who they actually were.
I counted nine boys and three girls. Seeing an imbalance like that was partially what fueled me to be the best Pokémon Trainer I could possibly be. I don't have to be the greatest Trainer that ever lived. I just want to set an example for any girl who came from the same background I did. Not every girl is taught they can achieve anything in this world. But if they can see someone who looks like them in a textbook or on TV doing what they aspire to do, that is practically a life's worth of lessons in itself. That's what I admire most about Clair; she's a role model. And even though she kinda rubbed me the wrong way, she puts on for the ladies.
As Clair got to the second-to-last student down the line, I realized that today was about to get 100% more awkward. There were only two kids left to announce. The first ten were not named Damion. And the one currently being bragged about is a short, cute girl with ribbons in her hair – also not named Damion. Just my luck, the brown-skinned boy with dark blue pants and an enigmatic presence was our aforementioned dinner guest. This time around it was him who was staring at me. It was a sarcastic glare. Thankfully, it didn't last long.
"And last but not least," Clair beamed, "is my godson, Mr. Damion Harrison!" It was evident Damion did not like to be buttered up. He emitted an unhealthy amount of distance, considering the fact she had just claimed him as kin. "He sits in fourth place in school history in written exam average and currently has the highest field exam average we've ever recorded! He is a former Blackthorn Junior Champion and is one of the bravest, smartest, and hardest working young Trainers I've ever known."
That last part was pretty cheesy. But she obviously had love for the kid. He, for whatever reason, didn't seem to care. He forced a smile and lazily waved to our class. I leaned over to Stephanie for some quick gossip. "Ten minutes in and I've already got this kid figured out," I said with a menacing smile. "Oh really?" Steph doubted. "Tell me, what's his life story?"
Steph and I played this game often. We're both fairly good at reading people (I'm the better of the two, naturally). We looked at what a person wore, their odor, their demeanor, their speaking cadence, their commonly used phrases, and, of course, the Pokémon they have to decipher who they truly were at heart. Because, let's face it, people don't tell you who they are; they show you. You can know countless facts about someone's life and still know nothing about them. Today I knew I had Damion Harrison's story all figured out.
"Okay," I began. "So he definitely has some daddy issu—"
"Ms. Rodriguez!" Mr. Earl exclaimed, infiltrating our gossip session. "Would you like to start our daily activity off with whatever you and Ms. Williams are whispering about?"
He knew how much I hated being put on the spot in front of the class. It also didn't help that there were 13 new faces to gawk at my embarrassment with fiery eyes of judgment.
"Um, n-no," I nervously stuttered.
"Very well then," said Mr. Earl, "the class would appreciate it if you kept your comments to yourself until after we're finished in the classroom."
"Yes, Mr. Earl. I'm sorry." He reassured me that there was nothing to worry about.
Once the introductions were over, our school day began. The Blackthorn students found empty seats around the room while Clair occupied the desk in the upper left hand corner Mr. Earl designated for special guests of the class. We hardly ever had any, though.
Our first activity was the same as always. Every morning Mr. Earl would pick out one moment from the previous night, weekend or earlier that day, using it to illustrate to the class the importance of being grateful, courageous, diligent, things of that nature. I've never met a man who loved life more than Mr. Earl. He loved his job and he loved Pokémon. He seemed to love everybody he came in contact with. It's honestly baffling. But that's beside the point. This morning he decided to switch up the routine. Instead of telling a personal experience, he told a story of a young Clair – ten years old, to be exact.
"A most fortuitous of days, was it not?" he asked, turning his head to Clair.
"If you're talking about what I think you're talking about," Clair responded, "then yes. Indeed it was." Her smirk was uncanny. It was as if she remembered every single detail like it happened five minutes ago with only one sentence of context. She sat with a pristine air of pride. I aim one day to embody her spirit in all that I do. Mr. Earl let out his signature chuckle once more before continuing his story.
"A quarter century ago, believe it or not, I was one of the most respected Pokémon Trainers in all of Kanto. Like many other Trainers, I collected data for the one and only Professor Oak. But by that time I was already a couple of decades into my career. Because of my many years of loyal service and aptitude for training and caring for Pokémon, Professor Oak selected me and nine other top Trainers to a search committee. Our primary mission was to complete his coveted Pokédex across all regions. But what fascinated me most during those years was our oversight of the Gym Leader selection process."
Every eye and ear was glued to Mr. Earl's story for the first time possibly ever. Except for this Damion character; he fiddled with his fingernails and sifted through his miniature Pokédex like he'd heard this story a million times before. How rude! Mr. Earl resumed.
"Typically, each city would cast a vote of three or four qualified Trainers and whoever received the most votes became the new Gym Leader for the next five years, as long as they were a law-abiding citizen in that span."
Once Mr. Earl finished his statement, a student blurted out one of my biggest and more recently acquired pet peeves: slandering my uncle's name. He gave a sarcastic laugh, commenting on Uncle Gio's lack of integrity. I didn't even turn around to see who it was, but I could take an educated guess.
My father told me never to speak of Giovanni in the classroom. Trevor and I weren't supposed to give the slightest hint that we were in any way affiliated with the former Viridian City Gym Leader-slash-crime-boss. Dad's instructions were more directed at me since he knows how hot-tempered I can be.
"Well, Mr. Hugo," Mr. Earl replied, "I'm not sure why or how the Viridian City Gym stayed under the same regime for as long as it did. However, that is a matter best pondered upon by the police and not by a B-minus student with his fly down." The entire room erupted with laughter as the boy's face flushed red, fixing his zipper immediately. Of all the students in our class, Mr. Earl burned Chadwick the most. He asked for it by always making snobby comments and asking touchy questions.
"I agree with blondie."
The whole room fell silent as Damion uttered his first complete sentence of the day. His head was tilted downwards but he spoke in a clear, decisive tone.
"Team Rocket are nothing but scum. They steal innocent Pokémon and make them suffer. Risky lab experiments, filthy confinement facilities; they turn the power of Pokémon into a recyclable weapon. Viridian City, and all its inhabitants, should be ashamed of themselves for turning their backs on this level of corruption. It has been clear since their inception that Team Rocket are full of fools – but not just any kind of fool, the worst kind. The kind that is smart enough to find trouble yet stupid enough to ignore the consequences. Giovanni is the most disgust—"
I could no longer contain myself. This punk had the nerve to insult my city and my uncle all in a matter of seconds. I would not allow this. If I didn't back us up no one would. Trevor, like the coward he is, quivered with embarrassment. But I had reached my limit. A pool of rage washed over me as I sprang out of my seat.
"That's enough! Didn't you hear Mr. Earl a couple of seconds ago? This conversation is pointless! And where do you get off shaming the great city of Viridian? That's my brother and I's birthplace you're talking about! Do you honestly believe that everyone in town knew exactly what was going on for years but just didn't say anything about it? You're the fool! The number-one rule for being a crime lord, I assume, would be being secretive. Duh!"
Feeling somewhat responsible for this argument, Mr. Earl attempted to interrupt.
"Ms. Rodriguez, please…"
"No, Mr. Earl! I'm not finished with him yet. Let me speak my peace!" Whatever expression was on my face convinced him to let me continue, but not for long.
"Very well, Maya; you have one last sentence. Then we must continue with class," he replied.
I faced Damion and stared into his imposing brown eyes, looking for the most impactful single sentence I could muster.
"On behalf of the residents of Viridian City, I challenge you to a Pokémon battle – right here, right now!"
Out of the corner of my eye I could see Clair hold up her hand to Mr. Earl, signaling him to remain seated in order to witness her godson's response.
Damion snickered as he stood out of his chair. He slowly walked over to me until our noses were about six inches apart.
"I commend your passion," he noted. "I can feel the anger and hatred and fire within you. Something similar burns inside of me. Your aura is unshakable, but your challenge is misguided. There is only one Trainer in this room who can defeat me. That Trainer is not you. However, I like your spunk. If you wish to battle me, you may once we are dismissed. How does that sound?"
"That sounds wonderful, Damion," Clair interjected. "Now why don't you both take your seats while Mr. Earl finishes his story?" She turned to him, Mr. Earl, and smiled. "You were saying?"
Damion returned to his desk. And I sat back down, still flustered. Since I caused such a ruckus, I did my best to keep calm — at least until the final bell rang.
Mr. Earl loudly cleared his throat. "Er-hem! Yes, as I was saying, my colleagues and I travelled far and wide evaluating the new young talent the world's Gyms had to offer. I remember Violet City's previous leader Walker when he was first getting started. He was smart and swift and free-spirited. We came across many talented Trainers in our years of research, but none were as magnetizing as young Ms. Clair!"
His expression was so candid. He talked about Clair like she was his own daughter. 25 years is a long time, though. He essentially watched her grow up.
Mr. Earl told Clair's storybook origin tale. She was a child prodigy. At a mere ten years of age, she had won enough local battles around Blackthorn to not only make the final ballot but win the Gym Leader election. The only Trainer in the city that could defeat her was her cousin Lance. But he would never take the helm as Blackthorn City's Gym Leader. He had much bigger aspirations. So, by rule, Clair was to become the first child Trainer in Johto League history to head an official Gym. Nevertheless, as with any eureka moment in society, a group of higher-ups had to spoil the fun.
The Blackthorn City Council deemed a ten-year-old Trainer, although old enough to carry Pokémon, unfit to lead an official Johto League Gym. So, in turn, they decided to hold a citywide 16-Trainer tournament to settle once and for all who Blackthorn's most skilled strategist was.
"So there I was," Earl proceeded, "watching a ten-year-old knock off highly experienced Trainers one by one. Since Lance was already deep into his Pokémon journey there was hardly an opponent worthy of challenging Clair. Her only obstacle came in her final match versus an unnamed Dragon Tamer Clan member. Your Dragonair was spectacular, Ms. Clair, a true warrior of a Pokémon."
Clair stood out of her seat and began walking towards her longtime friend. "Thank you, Mr. Earl. Your kind words always bring me joy." She placed her hand on his shoulder while addressing the class. "My story goes to show what all of you can someday accomplish. With a healthy balance of competent precision, steadfast persistence and total oneness, you can achieve anything! I changed the rules. I trained harder than anyone. I studied harder than anyone. I showed the world that any man, woman, or child deserves an opportunity to prove their worth."
She emphasized the words woman and child. It appeared as though the chip on her shoulder had only grown over time. That was what made her such a formidable Trainer, I guess.
Ding Dong! . . . There it was - one bell down, one to go.
Damion said he would battle me once we were dismissed, which most likely meant at the end of the day. But I am not waiting that long. Once lunchtime hit, it was time to battle.
"Alright, students," said Mr. Earl. "We will now rotate instructors! Ms. Clair's Blackthorn City kids will stay in the classroom with me for some Pokémon trivia and philosophy."
"And the Violet City students," Clair added, "will be going outside with me for an intro to meditation and Pokémon bonding."
"Did she just say meditation?" Steph whispered, leaning over to me.
"Yeah, I think so," I whispered back.
We gave each other a look of uncertainty and shrugged our shoulders. Our class filed out of the building as the teachers directed. Clair followed behind the last kid in line. With her hand on the doorknob, she instructed us to sit on the yoga mats laid out on the short grass. Before joining us, she looked back into the classroom.
"Damion, you're with me."