Part Five
The next few years slipped by fast. The gym was doing well, although I knew that my mother was frustrated that the results were not coming in for Team Rocket as a whole. Hence I expected her to be in a somewhat foul mood when I paid her a visit, but I was surprised to find her upbeat.
"I think that we have a way to boost the business. So much so that we would vastly increase our power," she told me.
"How so?" I asked.
"Miya brought a report to me concerning the whereabouts of the pokemon known as Mew," she said.
"That's just a story, isn't it?" I asked, trying to remember the tale my father had told me when I was a child.
"I have evidence to suggest otherwise," she replied, in her usual confident tone.
"How are you going to get it then?" I said.
"I'm sending Miya and Cal to South America to locate and capture one," she said. "They will be setting off tomorrow."
"You're sending Miya?" I exclaimed, unable to help myself.
"She's my best agent, and I trust her to be able to complete the mission safely," Mother replied.
"But what about Jessie? It's not fair to keep her mother away on a dangerous mission for what could be months," I said.
"Miya understands the situation," she said, in the way that meant that I wasn't to question her further.
"You mean you've forced her to go," I pressed, undeterred. Mother looked at me, a warning look in her eyes, but when she spoke, her voice was controlled.
"She is employed to look for and gather information about pokemon. She is not employed to sit at home," she said. I did not ask anything else about the matter, but instead went to see Miya that evening. I hesitated before knocking. When she opened the door, she couldn't hide the look of surprise on her face.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
"I want to talk to you," I said.
"You'd better come in then," she replied, standing aside. I went and sat on a chair, Miya settling on the sofa opposite.
"My mother says that you're going to South America to look for a Mew," I said.
"Yes. What of it?" Miya replied.
"It's far too dangerous," I said.
"Perhaps, but there has always been an element of danger throughout my career," she said, mildly.
"This is different. You have Jessie to think about."
"So now you're concerned about Jessie? This is a bit sudden."
"Please, Miya. I know that you don't want to leave her either. But I don't understand why you agreed to go." Miya pursed her lips.
"Isn't that obvious?" she said. "I did try to get out of it, but she wouldn't have it. Besides, I need the money."
"I can give you money," I said. "You only have to ask."
"As I told you before, I don't want your handouts," Miya said. I sighed.
"I'll try and talk my mother out of sending you if you want," I said. Miya hesitated.
"I would appreciate that," she said eventually. I nodded. There was an awkward silence.
"Well, I suppose I should go," I said, and got up. Miya rose with me.
"I know that things haven't been great between us recently, but I know that you'll do your best," she said. I turned to face her.
"I wish things were different," I said.
"They still can be," Miya replied. "Maybe we should talk when I come back." I hesitated, but then something made me nod my head.
"Yes, we should," I said. Miya smiled at me. I reached out and touched her face.
"I still love you," I said. She took my hand and held it between hers.
"I care for you, Giovanni, but I don't love you anymore," she told me. I closed my eyes briefly, but I knew that I shouldn't be surprised. With the way I had treated her and Jessie, I was lucky that she still wanted to speak to me.
"Well, if I can't change things, good luck on your mission," I said. Miya must have sensed my worry, for she held out her arms. We gave each other a tight hug.
"I'm sure everything will be fine," she said, though not quite with her usual confidence. I opened the door. It was time to go.
"Goodbye Miya," I said, giving her a smile.
"Bye," she replied, and returned the smile before disappearing back inside her apartment.
Despite practically begging on my knees, mother refused to change her mind over sending Miya to the Andes. I could see her logic in wanting to send her best field agent, from the professional side of things. But Miya had a daughter. Then again, mother didn't realise that Jessie was her granddaughter. Perhaps I should have come clean then, but I was still too afraid of what her reaction would be. And it probably wouldn't have made any difference. Still, some three months passed without incident. I thought that perhaps things would turn out okay after all, but then came the phone call I had been dreading. Miya and Cal had been killed in an avalanche. I was distraught, but though it was no more significant than my father's death, it was a different kind of grief.
After composing myself the best I could, I decided that I should go to the headquarters to see Xan, my mother and everyone else. It was the right thing to do. Besides that, I had to try and find out where Jessie was, and what was going to happen to her. Nothing could have prepared me for the atmosphere at the headquarters though. Miya had been very popular, and her death had affected almost everybody, including my mother, and especially Xan. He wept through the memorial service and was inconsolable for some days. I couldn't find anything on the computer records of where Jessie lived when Miya was away, so I went to the apartment where Miya stayed. To my surprise, most of it had been emptied, apart from a couple of boxes of personal possessions. I went through these, though not without a sense of guilt. I found a picture of Miya and Jessie in a frame. It was a recent one. I stared at the happy, smiling faces for a while then slipped the picture inside my jacket and resumed my search.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
It was as if everything had been erased. Perhaps it was part of some procedure that I wasn't aware of. I decided to go and see my mother and see if she knew anything about Jessie's whereabouts. She was at work in her office, but these days she didn't mind so much if I showed up. She was busy doing some report, but greeted me with a small smile.
"How are you coping?" she asked, continuing to write. It was a genuine question, and I was a little surprised.
"I'm okay. I don't know about Xan though," I replied. She nodded.
"I've taken him off work for a short while," she said. There was a pause, then I asked her my question.
"Mum, what's happened to Miya's daughter?" I asked. My mother stopped writing and looked at me.
"Your daughter is with whoever Miyamoto sends her to when she goes away," she replied, as if I had asked her the time of day. My heart stopped, and I thought for a moment I had heard wrong. I managed to find my voice.
"You knew? How?"
"Everything gets back to me eventually," she replied, and started writing again. Her manner raised suspicion in me.
"You know where she is, don't you?" I said. She didn't look up, but said,
"You are her father. Surely you know yourself?"
"Miya never told me."
"Well then, that is your burden," she said. "Perhaps you should have been honest with me in the first place." The revelation that my mother knew the truth about Jessie, on top of my sorrow, was too much for me.
"Tell me where Jessie is," I snapped, bringing a fist down onto her desk. Mother stopped writing again, and glared at me.
"I will hear no more on the matter. That child does not exist as far as I am concerned. Isn't that what you wanted me to believe, that she was of no relation to me at all?"
"All the more reason to tell me where she is," I cried, leaning on the desk so that I was practically face-to-face with her. She remained unmoved.
"I forbid you to look for her. Now, if you've quite finished, I have work to do," she told me, candidly. Her reaction further incensed me.
"You killed Miya," I shouted, pointing at her. "You didn't intend for her to come back. Why else would you send her after a Pokemon that doesn't exist?"
"It exists, Giovanni. When you are feeling more civilised, I will show you."
"I don't care. Miya's gone and it's all your fault," I spat. If she hadn't been my mother, I would have gone for her. She looked me squarely in the eyes.
"Don't blame me for your own problems. Miyamoto knew the risks of being in Team Rocket, and accepted them. We all have to accept them, else there is no point in being here. And since you are in an unreasonable mood, I see little point in you being here." Again she picked up her pen. I glared at her, furious. She simply glowered back at me. Knowing that I had lost the fight, I turned round and stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind me so hard that a small picture fell off the wall, startling Alison, her secretary. She must have heard almost every word that was exchanged. But I was unconcerned. I didn't care who had heard. I stormed out of the building to my car, jumped in it and drove off. I didn't care where I went, just so long as it was away from the headquarters.
I never hated my mother so much as I did at that moment.
I wondered how she found out, and when. I thought that perhaps Stefan had told her, but dismissed the idea. Stefan was above telling tales for personal gain. Then I decided that it must have been Cal. I knew he hated me. But he would never do anything that would compromise Miya. I shook my head. Perhaps my mother had simply guessed. She wasn't stupid. I should have known better than to try and out-manoeuvre her.
I found myself stopping at the cemetery. I got out of the car and walked through the graves until I reached my father's. It was very tidy, and there were some fresh flowers on it. My mother must have been recently. I knew that she visited whenever she could. I idly looked at the headstone. My father had only been forty-five when he was killed. Miya was only thirty-two. It didn't seem fair. This only added to the anger I felt, and I kicked out at a stray stone, sending it hurtling down the path. I wished that my father were still alive. I would have told him about Miya and Jessie, and he would have been able to keep in check any anger my mother had over the matter. He would have been able to stop her from sending Miya away. But, almost as if I could hear him talking to me, I knew that when all was said and done, it was only me who could do anything about my problems.
"If your mother thinks she can walk all over you, she will do. It doesn't matter who you are," he had told me. How I knew that at the moment.
"I was only trying to look after Miya," I sighed out loud. "I thought I was doing what was best." And look at how it had all backfired. I still didn't think it justified my mother's actions though, no matter how upset she might have been at her discovery. She must have sent Miya to the Andes to spite me. I doubted that I could ever forgive her. I stared at the flowers on the grave, thinking of my father and grandfather. It was then that I realised that I knew what would hurt my mother.
It was some two months later. I had finished business at the gym for another day, and retired to my living quarters. I had just settled down with a drink, when the buzzer told me that I had a visitor. I picked up the handset.
"Hello?"
"Hi Giovanni. You're not busy, are you?" It was my aunt.
"No, I'm not. Come in," I replied, and sighed as I replaced the handset. My aunt greeted me with her usual bear hug.
"I suppose she sent you over to talk to me?" I asked. My aunt's expression reminded me that she was, unlike my mother, quite sensitive about things.
"I'm sorry," I apologised. She nodded, accepting my apology.
"I actually came to visit you under my own influence," she said, as we sat down. "But I wouldn't mind an explanation as to why you haven't spoken to your mother for over six weeks?" My aunt had the same deep brown eyes as my mother; however, they showed a compassion that I rarely ever saw in my mother's.
"What has she told you?" I asked, guardedly. I had stopped all contact with my mother since the day we had had the argument about Jessie. For the first week, I heard nothing from her either, but when she did try to contact me, I ignored her. Eventually, she even came to Viridian City, to here to try and see me but I refused to let her in. She tried everything she could to try and speak to me, but it didn't work. Even though I was still angry with her, I had felt slightly guilty about isolating her from me, but I hardened my resolve. I would see mother when I wanted to, which wasn't yet. I knew that I was only still residing in and controlling the gym because she allowed me to, but that only demonstrated to me that she wouldn't harm me. Xan kept me up to date with developments within Team Rocket. I realised my aunt was speaking.
"Well, she seems to think that it's because you blame her for the death of an agent," she said.
"The agent was one of my best friends," I replied.
"Yes, she told me that you were close," my aunt said, sympathetically. "But that's not reason enough to stop contact with your mother."
"Miya had a little girl who was five years old. Despite this, and despite what I tried to tell her, mum sent Miya on a mission to the Andes," I told her.
"Your mother said that Miya wanted to go on the expedition," my aunt said. I sighed.
"That's true to some extent, but there were plenty of other people to choose from," I said.
"Where's the little girl now?" my aunt asked.
"I don't know. I assume she's still with the people who were looking after her when Miya was away," I replied.
"I'm sorry for your loss, Giovanni," my aunt said. "And I understand why you're angry, but please try and forgive your mother. If you talk to her, perhaps you'll find out the reasons why she sent Miya away."
"She did it to get at me," I replied, shortly. My aunt pursed her lips.
"I don't believe that for an instant. Your mother is no angel, but she does not carry out personal vendettas. Is this what it's all about? Because you're being childish if it is." My aunt's sudden anger surprised me, and I didn't reply. She continued.
"Your mother is very upset too. Do you think your father would be happy to see you both like this?"
"No," I admitted.
"You are the only living bit of your father that your mother has left. You're taking that away from her by doing this," my aunt said. I shifted in my seat. She had hit on the idea that I had thought of to hurt my mother. It sounded like it was working too.
"I don't have anything left of Miya at all," I retorted.
"Perhaps, but if there is anything to learn from the deaths of your father and Miya, it's that life is too short for stupid things," my aunt told me. "I'm sorry if that sounds like a cliché, but it's true." I knew in my heart that she was right, but I didn't feel ready to see my mother yet.
"Maybe I'll phone her later," I said, to appease my aunt.
"Good," she said.
Of course, "later" didn't necessarily mean that night. In fact, almost two years passed and I still hadn't seen mother. She had given up trying to contact me, and my aunt was frustrated at us both. I have to say, I was enjoying having a life away from Team Rocket. I had renewed my friendship with Jack, who had married Ella. She was currently expecting their third child. They didn't know about Team Rocket, but I had told them about Jessie, after adapting the story slightly. They were sympathetic. They were also impressed that I was the leader of the Viridian City gym. Apparently, I had gained a reputation as being a tough opponent, and trainers considered getting an Earth badge as something of a prestigious prize. Being away from Team Rocket also helped me come to terms with Miya's death. I did try looking for Jessie, but she had vanished into thin air. I hoped that wherever she was, she was safe and well. Who knows, perhaps one day she would walk into the gym as a Pokemon trainer. Not that I would recognise her. She certainly wouldn't recognise me. One evening, the phone rang.
"Giovanni." It was my aunt. She sounded upset.
"What's the matter?" I asked.
"It's your mother…you need to go and see her," she replied.
"Why?"
"She's ill. She won't tell you herself because you won't listen to her."
"What's wrong with her?" I asked, half suspecting some kind of ploy.
"She's got cancer," my aunt replied. I felt a pang rise through me. I questioned my aunt further, but she was unable to give me any more answers. Clearly, if my mother's plight was genuine, she wanted to tell me herself. I debated over whether I should go or not. I decided in the end that I should. The hatred I had felt for her in the aftermath of Miya's death had subsided. It was time to swallow my pride.
The next day I made my way to the house I had grown up in. It felt nice to see it again after so long. I unlocked the front door and crept in. Mother didn't know I was coming. She wasn't in the living room, so I went to the study. Hesitatingly, I opened the door. She almost jumped out of her skin, but when she saw it was me, she recovered herself. We just looked at each other, then she spoke.
"Hello," she said, surprisingly softly.
"Mother," I replied, accordingly. She didn't look particularly ill, just a little tired. She stood up.
"I was just going to make myself some coffee. Would you like some?" she asked. I nodded, and followed her to the kitchen.
"How are you?" she asked, getting out two mugs and preparing the coffee.
"I'm fine," I said.
"How's the gym?"
"It's doing quite well," I replied.
"Yes, I'd heard as much," she said. She made the coffee and we sat down at the table. It felt like two old acquaintances meeting up and not quite being sure how to get going again. I realised that, despite my misgivings, I had missed her. I noticed that she seemed to have gained some fine lines round her features. She was in her fifties now. I broke the silence.
"Minty says that you're ill," I said.
"Did she tell you why?" mother asked.
"She said you have cancer," I replied. "But that's all." My mother placed her cup on the table and clasped her hands. I sensed that I wasn't going to like what she was about to say.
"I wanted to tell you the whole story myself. I wasn't sure whether you would come to see me or not," she began. "It's true that I do have cancer. I wouldn't make up some story to get you to see me."
"I know," I said, despite my earlier suspicions.
"I've been for tests, but the doctors have said that there is nothing they can do," she said.
"What do you mean? There's all sorts of treatments," I said, unable to comprehend.
"If you have certain types of cancer, yes. But in some cases, it's not possible," she replied. She was remarkably composed, but then, she always was unless she lost her temper.
"How long…"
"They're not sure. It depends on how fast it spreads," she interrupted. "It could be six months, or it could be a couple of years."
"What about work?" I asked.
"I will continue to work for as long as is possible. You will probably have to take over some of my tasks eventually…" she faltered, an unusual thing for her. "That's if you're prepared to do that," she finished. I found myself reaching out to touch her hands.
"Of course I am, mum," I said. She smiled at me, a warm smile. I finally understood why people were loyal to my mother. You just couldn't leave her. As much as you hated some aspects of her personality, there was something about her that kept you drawn to her. Even if I had still refused to run Team Rocket, even if I were not her son, I would have ended up being involved somehow.
Our reunion didn't mean that the past was forgotten, but we were able to put our differences aside. Mother managed to continue for quite some time until I began to take over things. First it was the odd meeting, then anything requiring long distance travel, then several other items. Mother clung onto managing the field agents for as long as she could. That had been her job since Team Rocket had formed when she was in her early twenties, and it was this, more than any other little thing, that she found hard to let go of. She continued to instruct me on how to cope with the underground world – who could be trusted, how to spot people trying to deceive you. Although in the end, I had taken on practically all her work, she wouldn't officially hand over control of the organization to me.
As far as the minions were concerned, they weren't aware that she was dying. Madame Boss ran Team Rocket, not her son. Only the very senior staff were aware of what was happening. Because my workload had been a gradual build up, I didn't feel particularly snowed under. I adapted as I went along. Mother would frequently have her say as to what I should do. It was almost always good advice, so I tolerated it. She was still the boss, after all. When she wasn't concerning herself with Team Rocket, she would spend time doing the things that she used to like doing before she was in charge. I think she found having so much time on her hands a little disconcerting at first, but she was a sensible woman, and knew that if she couldn't work, her time would be better spent elsewhere. So she would often go out for walks if she felt well enough, or reading on the not so good days. Gradually though, her illness began to take its toll, and she ended up spending a lot of time in her bed.
"Maybe you should go to a hospital for care," I suggested to her, as she swallowed some painkillers.
"I don't like hospitals. Your father couldn't make me stay in one, and neither will you," she replied sharply. Still, she allowed for a nurse and doctor to visit her, and for my aunt and I to look after her when she needed it, although we weren't to make a fuss. I watched over the next couple of months as she grew weaker, the illness stripping her of her beauty. For once I was glad my father was dead, for it would have broken his heart to watch my mother waste away like this. The only physical thing that did not change about her were her eyes. They remained as intense as ever, reflecting the fact that her mind was not failing. The doctor had told us that it wouldn't be long now. I think that she knew it, for when I next saw her, she seemed quite remorseful - at least, as close as I ever saw her to being so.
"I'm sorry that I couldn't be the mother you wanted me to be," she said, sitting up in her bed with a book in her lap. The apology brought tears to my eyes, but I fought them back.
"Mum…you did what you had to do," I said, eventually. She motioned for me to come closer to her. I did, and she pulled me into a hug. She did something which she hadn't done since I was a little boy. She kissed my cheek and ruffled my hair.
"You know that I'm proud of you," she said.
"I know," I replied. She smiled at me, and for an instant, she was the beautiful woman she once was.
"I'm tired," she said. "I think I'll have a nap." She folded up her book, and placed it on the bedside cabinet. I kissed her goodbye, and left her alone. It was the last time I spoke to her. The next day, with my aunt and I at her bedside, my mother, the feared 'Madame Boss' of Team Rocket, passed away.