Jessie sighed hopelessly, staring into her lemonade. Had it really been three days since James . . .
It was still so hard to get used to the fact that he was gone. She kept thinking that any minute he would appear saying, "Prepared for trouble?" with that sweet smile . . .
She couldn't believe how badly she had treated him at times. Certainly James had been dense at times, but he had more than made up for it with his kindness towards her. In all the years they had worked together, he had only snapped at her a few times.
She idly wondered why Meowth was taking so long with getting the rest of their order.
Suddenly her head snapped up as she realized someone was staring at her. She found herself looking at a forlorn young man dressed as a busboy. His hair was hidden from view, pulled back into a ponytail and mostly crammed under the hat. His thick glasses framed deep, sad green eyes. He looked so familiar . . . so like James . . . it was eerie.
"Have we met before?" she stammered finally, completely taken aback.
"I don't know," he replied in a soft voice. "I was trying to remember."
"You remind me of someone," Jessie said, feeling a bit silly. "He's . . . gone now, and I . . . I miss him."
"I'm sorry," the young man said, laying a hand on hers. He looked around abruptly and gasped. "Oh my. I have to go!"
Before Jessie could reply, he had vanished. She looked around, wondering what had scared him so. All she saw was Butch, who didn't see her, much to her relief. She curiously wondered how the frightened boy knew Butch, and why he looked so much like James, but then didn't have the chance to think more about it when a loud yowl came from the building.
"What in the . . . Meowth!" she exclaimed upon rushing inside. The feline Pokemon was laying on the floor, gasping for breath. "What happened to you?"
"I think ya was right, Jess," Meowth rasped. "Someone's tryin' to paste all of us!" With that his eyes closed and he fell limp.
"What happened here?" Jessie demanded of the patrons, who were all watching with goggle-eyed interest. She picked up the small animal and cradled him in her arms.
"Some thugs came in and started bullying the Meowth," a seven-year-old volunteered. "They said something about taking him out and then sicced their Pokemon on him! He tried to fight back, but they got the advantage over him. Then they all ran out and that's when you ran in!"
Jessie's eyes narrowed angrily. "Someone tell me where the nearest Pokemon hospital is."
****
Two days later
Ash, Misty, and Brock were walking through the downtown area of a city they were passing through when Pikachu suddenly jumped down from Ash's shoulder and scampered off into the crowd.
"Pikachu! Where are you going?" Ash demanded, chasing after him. "Come back!"
"Excuse us," Misty and Brock said countless times as they weaved in and out of the throngs of people.
"I wonder where Pikachu's taking us," Brock muttered.
"Look out!" Misty cried as they narrowly missed hitting a fruit stand.
Ash, in the meantime, had gone out ahead of the others and followed Pikachu down a side street, where the Pokemon abruptly tackled a passerby, bringing him to the ground. "Pika-pika!"
"Pikachu, what are you . . ." Ash stopped in astonishment. He found himself staring at a boy a few years older than him, who stared back, his brown eyes wide and terrified. He had been wearing some kind of disguise, but the blonde wig had fallen off and revealed his true hair color, an unusual and familiar bluish-lavender. He blinked, colored contacts slipping out of his eyes to uncover a deep emerald shade.
"Pika-pika!" Pikachu declared, sitting atop the boy's chest.
"No way!" Ash gasped. "It can't be! You're dead!!"
"Are you certain you don't have me mixed up with someone else?" the boy asked, frightened.
Ash stepped back. "You look just like James from Team Rocket," he said.
"Pika!" Pikachu announced, meaning "this *is* James from Team Rocket!"
"Ash, what's happening?" Misty called, as she and Brock finally caught up.
"Look who Pikachu just found," Ash exclaimed.
"Are you going to try to kill me too?" The boy looked close to panic.
"What *are* you talking about?" Misty demanded. "If you're really James, he's already supposed to be dead, so we couldn't kill him again! And besides, we wouldn't kill anybody!"
"Maybe this is a new trick to catch Pikachu," Brock suggested.
"Catch what??!"
"Pika-chu!!" the furry creature announced.
"You're Pikachu?" The boy stared at him. "Why would I be trying to catch this? It seems as though it's caught me."
"Wait a minute. . . ." Ash stared at the older boy, realization dawning. "You don't know what's going on, do you? You don't remember anything."
"What makes you think that?" He had to be very careful, not trusting anyone, not when some people wanted him dead. And he honestly didn't remember these kids either, even though they seemed to remember him. "I've just never seen any of you before and that's that."
"Hmmm . . ." Ash paused thoughtfully. Nothing was making sense, but James *was* dead, so how could this person really be him? "I'm sorry for the confusion," he said finally, reaching out a hand to help the boy stand up.
"Oh, it's quite alright . . ." The boy trailed off when he realized Ash was staring at the bandage around his wrist.
"What happened to your wrist?" Ash asked, concerned.
"Oh, uh . . . you know, I'm really not sure myself. . . . Goodbye!" And with that he fled down the street.
"That was weird," Misty commented.
"You said it!" Ash agreed.
"Who was that guy?" Brock wondered. "He looked like James, and he sounded like James, and he even kinda acted like James, but how could it have been James??"
Ash picked up the blonde wig and colored contacts, which the boy had left in his haste to get away. "Nothing adds up," he said. "If that was James, why didn't he grab Pikachu while he had the chance?"
"He acted like he had amnesia," Misty put in. "As you yourself said, Ash."
"But he's supposed to be dead," Brock cut in. "No one could've escaped that inferno. And Pikachu found his glove . . ."
"The glove!" Ash exclaimed. "It was the glove for the right hand, wasn't it?"
"I think so," Misty said.
"And that guy had a bandage on his right wrist," Brock added, catching on.
"That's it, guys," Ash said excitedly. "That *was* James! He's alive, but he doesn't remember anything!"
"Poor James," Misty commented.
"Yeah, and what was he babbling about?" Brock wondered. "He thought we were trying to kill him!"
"Somebody *is* trying to kill him," Ash said grimly. "They tried to in that fire, and they'll probably try again."
"What can we do?" Misty asked.
"I'm not sure. Maybe we should tell Officer Jenny," Ash mused.
"That sounds like a good idea," Brock said. "Let's go find her."
****
". . . And that's what happened, Officer Jenny," Ash concluded.
"We weren't sure what to do, so we were hoping you'd know," Misty added.
"I'm glad you came to me," Officer Jenny replied, "but I must admit, even I'm not quite sure what to do. All you know is that this person closely resembles James and that he was wounded on his wrist, a spot where James would likely be injured—if he was alive."
"And we also know that someone's trying to kill him," Ash put in.
At that moment Officer Jenny's phone rang. After talking for several minutes, she hung up and turned back to Ash, Misty, and Brock. "Well, that was Nurse Joy on the line," she announced.
"Is something wrong with some of her Pokemon?" Brock asked.
"No, actually, she was calling to tell me about a teenage boy who had been at her hospital a couple of days ago," Officer Jenny replied. "He matches the description of the boy you saw—and of James, too, of course. Nurse Joy said that he staggered in, said something about waking up on a beach with no memories at all, and then fainted. Later she says the hospital was raided by mysterious agents, probably from Team Rocket, and that she couldn't find the boy anywhere afterwards. She assumed they either took him or that he had ran away on his own."
"Did she say what kind of condition the boy was in?" Misty queried.
"She did, actually," Officer Jenny said. "She told me that he was in remarkably good condition after whatever he had gone through. He had escaped with assorted cuts, bruises, a good knock on the head, and some suspicious marks around his neck."
"You mean as if someone had tried to . . ." Misty looked horrified, grabbing her own neck in emphasis.
"That's right," Officer Jenny nodded. "Exactly like that. She also said he was treated for minor smoke inhalation."
Everyone gasped. James would have certainly had that problem—if he was alive.
"From everything I've heard, it certainly seems as if James really is still among the living," Officer Jenny stated. "But whether or not that boy was him, a murder attempt on him is something we can't ignore. I'll send out some officers to help me look for him."
"Thanks, Officer Jenny," Ash said, glad that something was being done. "But they'd better not be too conspicuous or something. James or whoever was really terrified when we saw him."
"My unit has some of the best plainclothes officers in the business," Officer Jenny smiled. "James won't even know we're there."
****
"Sir?"
The dark shadow turned to the agent. "What is it now, Malone? Have you failed again?"
"Well, sir, actually. . . . Yes, he got away again," Malone admitted. "And the Meowth has recovered from our attack."
"How many agents does it take to destroy three bumbling idiots?" The silhouetted man did not raise his voice, which only made his anger all the more apparent to Agent Malone. "Or perhaps the problem is that you're all bumbling idiots as well."
"Sir, if I may say so, you didn't do any better yourself," a second agent spoke up spunkily. "Your fiery inferno didn't stop them either."
"True, I may have failed once," their boss agreed, "but you can both be assured it won't happen again. They will all be dead by the time I'm through with them!" He got up from his desk. "Now . . . I will come with you and make sure you do not fail again."
It was still so hard to get used to the fact that he was gone. She kept thinking that any minute he would appear saying, "Prepared for trouble?" with that sweet smile . . .
She couldn't believe how badly she had treated him at times. Certainly James had been dense at times, but he had more than made up for it with his kindness towards her. In all the years they had worked together, he had only snapped at her a few times.
She idly wondered why Meowth was taking so long with getting the rest of their order.
Suddenly her head snapped up as she realized someone was staring at her. She found herself looking at a forlorn young man dressed as a busboy. His hair was hidden from view, pulled back into a ponytail and mostly crammed under the hat. His thick glasses framed deep, sad green eyes. He looked so familiar . . . so like James . . . it was eerie.
"Have we met before?" she stammered finally, completely taken aback.
"I don't know," he replied in a soft voice. "I was trying to remember."
"You remind me of someone," Jessie said, feeling a bit silly. "He's . . . gone now, and I . . . I miss him."
"I'm sorry," the young man said, laying a hand on hers. He looked around abruptly and gasped. "Oh my. I have to go!"
Before Jessie could reply, he had vanished. She looked around, wondering what had scared him so. All she saw was Butch, who didn't see her, much to her relief. She curiously wondered how the frightened boy knew Butch, and why he looked so much like James, but then didn't have the chance to think more about it when a loud yowl came from the building.
"What in the . . . Meowth!" she exclaimed upon rushing inside. The feline Pokemon was laying on the floor, gasping for breath. "What happened to you?"
"I think ya was right, Jess," Meowth rasped. "Someone's tryin' to paste all of us!" With that his eyes closed and he fell limp.
"What happened here?" Jessie demanded of the patrons, who were all watching with goggle-eyed interest. She picked up the small animal and cradled him in her arms.
"Some thugs came in and started bullying the Meowth," a seven-year-old volunteered. "They said something about taking him out and then sicced their Pokemon on him! He tried to fight back, but they got the advantage over him. Then they all ran out and that's when you ran in!"
Jessie's eyes narrowed angrily. "Someone tell me where the nearest Pokemon hospital is."
****
Two days later
Ash, Misty, and Brock were walking through the downtown area of a city they were passing through when Pikachu suddenly jumped down from Ash's shoulder and scampered off into the crowd.
"Pikachu! Where are you going?" Ash demanded, chasing after him. "Come back!"
"Excuse us," Misty and Brock said countless times as they weaved in and out of the throngs of people.
"I wonder where Pikachu's taking us," Brock muttered.
"Look out!" Misty cried as they narrowly missed hitting a fruit stand.
Ash, in the meantime, had gone out ahead of the others and followed Pikachu down a side street, where the Pokemon abruptly tackled a passerby, bringing him to the ground. "Pika-pika!"
"Pikachu, what are you . . ." Ash stopped in astonishment. He found himself staring at a boy a few years older than him, who stared back, his brown eyes wide and terrified. He had been wearing some kind of disguise, but the blonde wig had fallen off and revealed his true hair color, an unusual and familiar bluish-lavender. He blinked, colored contacts slipping out of his eyes to uncover a deep emerald shade.
"Pika-pika!" Pikachu declared, sitting atop the boy's chest.
"No way!" Ash gasped. "It can't be! You're dead!!"
"Are you certain you don't have me mixed up with someone else?" the boy asked, frightened.
Ash stepped back. "You look just like James from Team Rocket," he said.
"Pika!" Pikachu announced, meaning "this *is* James from Team Rocket!"
"Ash, what's happening?" Misty called, as she and Brock finally caught up.
"Look who Pikachu just found," Ash exclaimed.
"Are you going to try to kill me too?" The boy looked close to panic.
"What *are* you talking about?" Misty demanded. "If you're really James, he's already supposed to be dead, so we couldn't kill him again! And besides, we wouldn't kill anybody!"
"Maybe this is a new trick to catch Pikachu," Brock suggested.
"Catch what??!"
"Pika-chu!!" the furry creature announced.
"You're Pikachu?" The boy stared at him. "Why would I be trying to catch this? It seems as though it's caught me."
"Wait a minute. . . ." Ash stared at the older boy, realization dawning. "You don't know what's going on, do you? You don't remember anything."
"What makes you think that?" He had to be very careful, not trusting anyone, not when some people wanted him dead. And he honestly didn't remember these kids either, even though they seemed to remember him. "I've just never seen any of you before and that's that."
"Hmmm . . ." Ash paused thoughtfully. Nothing was making sense, but James *was* dead, so how could this person really be him? "I'm sorry for the confusion," he said finally, reaching out a hand to help the boy stand up.
"Oh, it's quite alright . . ." The boy trailed off when he realized Ash was staring at the bandage around his wrist.
"What happened to your wrist?" Ash asked, concerned.
"Oh, uh . . . you know, I'm really not sure myself. . . . Goodbye!" And with that he fled down the street.
"That was weird," Misty commented.
"You said it!" Ash agreed.
"Who was that guy?" Brock wondered. "He looked like James, and he sounded like James, and he even kinda acted like James, but how could it have been James??"
Ash picked up the blonde wig and colored contacts, which the boy had left in his haste to get away. "Nothing adds up," he said. "If that was James, why didn't he grab Pikachu while he had the chance?"
"He acted like he had amnesia," Misty put in. "As you yourself said, Ash."
"But he's supposed to be dead," Brock cut in. "No one could've escaped that inferno. And Pikachu found his glove . . ."
"The glove!" Ash exclaimed. "It was the glove for the right hand, wasn't it?"
"I think so," Misty said.
"And that guy had a bandage on his right wrist," Brock added, catching on.
"That's it, guys," Ash said excitedly. "That *was* James! He's alive, but he doesn't remember anything!"
"Poor James," Misty commented.
"Yeah, and what was he babbling about?" Brock wondered. "He thought we were trying to kill him!"
"Somebody *is* trying to kill him," Ash said grimly. "They tried to in that fire, and they'll probably try again."
"What can we do?" Misty asked.
"I'm not sure. Maybe we should tell Officer Jenny," Ash mused.
"That sounds like a good idea," Brock said. "Let's go find her."
****
". . . And that's what happened, Officer Jenny," Ash concluded.
"We weren't sure what to do, so we were hoping you'd know," Misty added.
"I'm glad you came to me," Officer Jenny replied, "but I must admit, even I'm not quite sure what to do. All you know is that this person closely resembles James and that he was wounded on his wrist, a spot where James would likely be injured—if he was alive."
"And we also know that someone's trying to kill him," Ash put in.
At that moment Officer Jenny's phone rang. After talking for several minutes, she hung up and turned back to Ash, Misty, and Brock. "Well, that was Nurse Joy on the line," she announced.
"Is something wrong with some of her Pokemon?" Brock asked.
"No, actually, she was calling to tell me about a teenage boy who had been at her hospital a couple of days ago," Officer Jenny replied. "He matches the description of the boy you saw—and of James, too, of course. Nurse Joy said that he staggered in, said something about waking up on a beach with no memories at all, and then fainted. Later she says the hospital was raided by mysterious agents, probably from Team Rocket, and that she couldn't find the boy anywhere afterwards. She assumed they either took him or that he had ran away on his own."
"Did she say what kind of condition the boy was in?" Misty queried.
"She did, actually," Officer Jenny said. "She told me that he was in remarkably good condition after whatever he had gone through. He had escaped with assorted cuts, bruises, a good knock on the head, and some suspicious marks around his neck."
"You mean as if someone had tried to . . ." Misty looked horrified, grabbing her own neck in emphasis.
"That's right," Officer Jenny nodded. "Exactly like that. She also said he was treated for minor smoke inhalation."
Everyone gasped. James would have certainly had that problem—if he was alive.
"From everything I've heard, it certainly seems as if James really is still among the living," Officer Jenny stated. "But whether or not that boy was him, a murder attempt on him is something we can't ignore. I'll send out some officers to help me look for him."
"Thanks, Officer Jenny," Ash said, glad that something was being done. "But they'd better not be too conspicuous or something. James or whoever was really terrified when we saw him."
"My unit has some of the best plainclothes officers in the business," Officer Jenny smiled. "James won't even know we're there."
****
"Sir?"
The dark shadow turned to the agent. "What is it now, Malone? Have you failed again?"
"Well, sir, actually. . . . Yes, he got away again," Malone admitted. "And the Meowth has recovered from our attack."
"How many agents does it take to destroy three bumbling idiots?" The silhouetted man did not raise his voice, which only made his anger all the more apparent to Agent Malone. "Or perhaps the problem is that you're all bumbling idiots as well."
"Sir, if I may say so, you didn't do any better yourself," a second agent spoke up spunkily. "Your fiery inferno didn't stop them either."
"True, I may have failed once," their boss agreed, "but you can both be assured it won't happen again. They will all be dead by the time I'm through with them!" He got up from his desk. "Now . . . I will come with you and make sure you do not fail again."