CHAPTER 2-THE ARGUMENT
On an adjacent street, halfway down, was a small brick cottage. It had a blue veranda with a clean and spotless medieval style wooden rocking chair. There was a shiny emerald green rooftop, and blood red walls, contrasted only by the dull grey door, upon which a golden sign was nailed, which simply read 'Maros'. Why the Maros family chose such a contrasting range of colours for their house was a mystery. Why no-one has stolen the rocking- chair by now is also a mystery, for they had been living here for ten years. It was a quiet street, mostly without cars.
But this morning, the silence was violently disturbed by the sound of an abnormally loud ring from a phone in the house, followed by the sound of loud footsteps, panting, and something crashing to the floor. Inside, there was a voice speaking. "Good morning, this is the Maros residence. Oh Mark, it's you!" exclaimed Joseph, quite out of breath, for he had been frantically charging down hallways and looking in rooms for the accursed runaway wireless phone.
"Wake up, sleepy-head! So did you like my slight modification of the musical qualities in your house?" asked Mark smugly. He was laughing silently as he imagined the look on Joseph's face right about now. Joseph always got up later than he did, so it would have given him one heck of a shock!
"So it was you! I suspected as much. I suppose you did it when you went to 'fix' my wires yesterday?" asked Joseph warily. "You made me knock over my mum's vase! Don't EVER do that again, you hear me?" he exclaimed, suddenly unreasonably angry. Although they were friends, Joseph had always liked and admired Mark. But recently, Mark seemed more.. radical, and alien. He had grown more wary of him.
"Then again, some people can't appreciate true musicianship" he said in a fake and snobbish voice. "Well boohoohoo. Go have a fat cry, why don't you! That's pathetic." He changed his voice subtly into his most convincing and sweet voice. "You can always get another vase you know. We have lots of spare time now that we're about to graduate. So come on. I'll be waiting for you on Johto Boulevard. Don't take too long" And with that, he signed off, and Joseph was alone in the room.
He sighed and slowly walked back to his room. He knew that that voice was a deceptive and coercive voice. But Mark's voice was law to most, and he used that to his advantage. Joseph liked that in a way, and had thought of him as smart and eager. So what had changed? He'd have to think about that later.
Joseph quickly wolfed down his breakfast of two eggs and three pieces of buttered toast, and with a quick goodbye, slung his green bag with his three pokemon in special handmade yellow and blue pokeballs over his right shoulder and ran off to meet Mark.
Mark was waiting more patiently than usual today, smiling in thought. "He's probably thinking about how he's going to beat the gym leaders" thought Joseph. Mark was leaning against a brown fence, wearing a black t-shirt with a picture of a Dragonite about to unleash a hyper beam, crumpled blue jeans and flaming red shoes. "Just like him, too!" thought Joseph.
"So what kept you, Joseph?" asked Mark, for once actually sounding genuinely interested. "Never mind, never mind, you're here now, that's what matters." interrupted Mark cheerfully before Joseph could utter a word. "You haven't forgotten your pokemon have you?" he inquired. "GOOD! Because we're gonna beat the stuffings out of the teachers! Aren't we!" he yelled, suddenly changing character.
"Yeah." came the muttered reply. Joseph knew that occasionally Mark was subject to changes of character like that, but when they came, it always startled him. The change was so... Sudden, violent, even. Joseph did not know why that happened, but that was another thing to think about later.
"I'm SO going to kick them! The teachers are in for a big surprise!" crowed Mark happily, already shaking with excitement. "The look on their faces when they realise I've brought my strongest pokemon.. Two three on three battles. And you know who I'm using?" asked Mark gleefully.
Joseph sighed. He had a bad feeling about Mark's coming battles. "Oh blast it!" he thought angrily. "Mark had probably just caught some level 35 Starmie or something. What am I worried about?" Or at least that's what he told himself, though the truth be told, not what he believed. "What? Your Muk? Your Omastar? Or is it a new pokemon you just caught?" he asked, not quite sure whether he should have opened his mouth in the first place. But nothing prepared him for the answer that came from Mark, which shocked him beyond belief.
"Gramps' pokemon, of course, what else?" He exclaimed smugly. "The teachers won't stand a chance. Dragonite, Fearow, Gyarados, Victreebell, Raichu and Charizard. With them obeying me, it won't be long before I am champion! They're all level 60 plus pokemon; the teachers' pokemon are only on level 25! And to think they call themselves teachers! Pah! And he spat aggressively on the ground in disgust. "Pathetic!" he exclaimed.
Joseph was astonished. "What??!! You know you shouldn't use someone else's pokemon, not even your grandfather's!" he exclaimed to a bored Mark. "It's almost like an unwritten contract that you cannot use another's pokemon, taboo. It's just not honourable, not right! Others have worked and trained hard with these pokemon, and now you take advantage of that, even if it is your grandfather's pokemon! In fact, no-one in the history of the Pokemon Trainers' School has ever done so! You'll be dishonouring the school's name! There's no skill in this!" He argued.
All this time, Mark had not really been listening, walking as if there was no-one there. He even let off a loud yawn, which particularly annoyed Joseph. But this last remark really hit the mark, and Mark was annoyed. "No skill!" He raged. "When I control all those pokemon, and stand as the most powerful trainer, then we will see who has no skill!" He crowed.
Joseph could not believe what Mark had said. To him, pokemon were pals, and not just tools! He would never think about pokemon the way Mark was. Possibly for the first time in his life, he was angry, truly angry at Mark." You stuck-up jerk! I don't know why I hang around you! You think the world exists for you! Pokemon are more than tools designed for your self- benefit! Why can't you see that? You're just a typical, selfish idiot." He yelled suddenly. The anger then left him suddenly, just as suddenly as it had taken hold of him.
Mark saw this, and naturally took advantage of it, using his knowledge of Joseph to throw him off his case. "Oh!" he said quietly." So that's what you feel eh? After all I've done for you, and you ditch me like this. Man!" he continued, smiling inwardly. "Well, I've just had enough of you, so you can just go by yourself on your pokemon journey. If you even pass today, that is!"
Joseph immediately regretted arguing with Mark. "Wait!" he cried. "I didn't mean what I said. Well, I sort of did, but. You're still my friend, I was only trying to help..." he stammered.
"I'm still your friend!!??" roared Mark. "Well, you've sure got a funny way of showing it! Insulting me like this. I'm hurt, Joseph Maros! Friends don't do such things!" And with that, he proceeded to the PTS alone, leaving Joseph stammering and gaping for a long time. In fact, he was late arriving.
In the meantime, Joseph was still having a hard time comprehending what had just transpired. With one sentence, he had lost his best friend. Bearing that knowledge, that heavy burden in some ways, he slowly resumed the walk to school.
On an adjacent street, halfway down, was a small brick cottage. It had a blue veranda with a clean and spotless medieval style wooden rocking chair. There was a shiny emerald green rooftop, and blood red walls, contrasted only by the dull grey door, upon which a golden sign was nailed, which simply read 'Maros'. Why the Maros family chose such a contrasting range of colours for their house was a mystery. Why no-one has stolen the rocking- chair by now is also a mystery, for they had been living here for ten years. It was a quiet street, mostly without cars.
But this morning, the silence was violently disturbed by the sound of an abnormally loud ring from a phone in the house, followed by the sound of loud footsteps, panting, and something crashing to the floor. Inside, there was a voice speaking. "Good morning, this is the Maros residence. Oh Mark, it's you!" exclaimed Joseph, quite out of breath, for he had been frantically charging down hallways and looking in rooms for the accursed runaway wireless phone.
"Wake up, sleepy-head! So did you like my slight modification of the musical qualities in your house?" asked Mark smugly. He was laughing silently as he imagined the look on Joseph's face right about now. Joseph always got up later than he did, so it would have given him one heck of a shock!
"So it was you! I suspected as much. I suppose you did it when you went to 'fix' my wires yesterday?" asked Joseph warily. "You made me knock over my mum's vase! Don't EVER do that again, you hear me?" he exclaimed, suddenly unreasonably angry. Although they were friends, Joseph had always liked and admired Mark. But recently, Mark seemed more.. radical, and alien. He had grown more wary of him.
"Then again, some people can't appreciate true musicianship" he said in a fake and snobbish voice. "Well boohoohoo. Go have a fat cry, why don't you! That's pathetic." He changed his voice subtly into his most convincing and sweet voice. "You can always get another vase you know. We have lots of spare time now that we're about to graduate. So come on. I'll be waiting for you on Johto Boulevard. Don't take too long" And with that, he signed off, and Joseph was alone in the room.
He sighed and slowly walked back to his room. He knew that that voice was a deceptive and coercive voice. But Mark's voice was law to most, and he used that to his advantage. Joseph liked that in a way, and had thought of him as smart and eager. So what had changed? He'd have to think about that later.
Joseph quickly wolfed down his breakfast of two eggs and three pieces of buttered toast, and with a quick goodbye, slung his green bag with his three pokemon in special handmade yellow and blue pokeballs over his right shoulder and ran off to meet Mark.
Mark was waiting more patiently than usual today, smiling in thought. "He's probably thinking about how he's going to beat the gym leaders" thought Joseph. Mark was leaning against a brown fence, wearing a black t-shirt with a picture of a Dragonite about to unleash a hyper beam, crumpled blue jeans and flaming red shoes. "Just like him, too!" thought Joseph.
"So what kept you, Joseph?" asked Mark, for once actually sounding genuinely interested. "Never mind, never mind, you're here now, that's what matters." interrupted Mark cheerfully before Joseph could utter a word. "You haven't forgotten your pokemon have you?" he inquired. "GOOD! Because we're gonna beat the stuffings out of the teachers! Aren't we!" he yelled, suddenly changing character.
"Yeah." came the muttered reply. Joseph knew that occasionally Mark was subject to changes of character like that, but when they came, it always startled him. The change was so... Sudden, violent, even. Joseph did not know why that happened, but that was another thing to think about later.
"I'm SO going to kick them! The teachers are in for a big surprise!" crowed Mark happily, already shaking with excitement. "The look on their faces when they realise I've brought my strongest pokemon.. Two three on three battles. And you know who I'm using?" asked Mark gleefully.
Joseph sighed. He had a bad feeling about Mark's coming battles. "Oh blast it!" he thought angrily. "Mark had probably just caught some level 35 Starmie or something. What am I worried about?" Or at least that's what he told himself, though the truth be told, not what he believed. "What? Your Muk? Your Omastar? Or is it a new pokemon you just caught?" he asked, not quite sure whether he should have opened his mouth in the first place. But nothing prepared him for the answer that came from Mark, which shocked him beyond belief.
"Gramps' pokemon, of course, what else?" He exclaimed smugly. "The teachers won't stand a chance. Dragonite, Fearow, Gyarados, Victreebell, Raichu and Charizard. With them obeying me, it won't be long before I am champion! They're all level 60 plus pokemon; the teachers' pokemon are only on level 25! And to think they call themselves teachers! Pah! And he spat aggressively on the ground in disgust. "Pathetic!" he exclaimed.
Joseph was astonished. "What??!! You know you shouldn't use someone else's pokemon, not even your grandfather's!" he exclaimed to a bored Mark. "It's almost like an unwritten contract that you cannot use another's pokemon, taboo. It's just not honourable, not right! Others have worked and trained hard with these pokemon, and now you take advantage of that, even if it is your grandfather's pokemon! In fact, no-one in the history of the Pokemon Trainers' School has ever done so! You'll be dishonouring the school's name! There's no skill in this!" He argued.
All this time, Mark had not really been listening, walking as if there was no-one there. He even let off a loud yawn, which particularly annoyed Joseph. But this last remark really hit the mark, and Mark was annoyed. "No skill!" He raged. "When I control all those pokemon, and stand as the most powerful trainer, then we will see who has no skill!" He crowed.
Joseph could not believe what Mark had said. To him, pokemon were pals, and not just tools! He would never think about pokemon the way Mark was. Possibly for the first time in his life, he was angry, truly angry at Mark." You stuck-up jerk! I don't know why I hang around you! You think the world exists for you! Pokemon are more than tools designed for your self- benefit! Why can't you see that? You're just a typical, selfish idiot." He yelled suddenly. The anger then left him suddenly, just as suddenly as it had taken hold of him.
Mark saw this, and naturally took advantage of it, using his knowledge of Joseph to throw him off his case. "Oh!" he said quietly." So that's what you feel eh? After all I've done for you, and you ditch me like this. Man!" he continued, smiling inwardly. "Well, I've just had enough of you, so you can just go by yourself on your pokemon journey. If you even pass today, that is!"
Joseph immediately regretted arguing with Mark. "Wait!" he cried. "I didn't mean what I said. Well, I sort of did, but. You're still my friend, I was only trying to help..." he stammered.
"I'm still your friend!!??" roared Mark. "Well, you've sure got a funny way of showing it! Insulting me like this. I'm hurt, Joseph Maros! Friends don't do such things!" And with that, he proceeded to the PTS alone, leaving Joseph stammering and gaping for a long time. In fact, he was late arriving.
In the meantime, Joseph was still having a hard time comprehending what had just transpired. With one sentence, he had lost his best friend. Bearing that knowledge, that heavy burden in some ways, he slowly resumed the walk to school.