The discussion over lunch had quickly turned to pokemon training.
"So, Mirus, any plans for what kind of pokemon you'd like to train?" his father asked.
Mirus felt Grim's warm weight on his feet, and grinned. "Well, I'm starting to thing that dog pokemon might be the best to train...," he started, before Heron interrupted.
"Great! That means you'll be a Type 3 trainer, like me!" she said, smiling at him.
"What do you mean?" he asked, thinking of her pokemon. "Snakes?"
"That's right. I'm aiming to be great snake trainer. Heron, the snake hunter."
"I'd imagine you to be a bird trainer," Mirus's mother said.
"I know. But I prefer snakes," Heron replied, twisting spagetti around her fork.
"What do you mean by Type 3?" Miruys asked. In all his research, he's never heard of these types.
"Well, there are five types of pokemon trainer, not including breeder, co-ordinator, etc. Type 1 trains random types of pokemon, and are the most common. Type 2 trains only certain types like fire, water, grass or something, and are usually found in gyms." She paused for breath and sensed Mirus hanging onto her every word.
"Type 3- that's me- train a type of specie only, such as dog, cat, dinosaur, snake or something. Type 4 trains pokemon in a specie, but those specie can only be, or often are, one type, and not all of that specie fits the catergory. Like birds, which can only be Flying, or fish, which are Water. And Type 5 pokemon have a type name, but pokemon of that catergory that aren't always that type, like Dragon. Charizard is a dragon, but not a Dragon type, though Dragonite is both."
Mirus nodded, still absorbing the infomation.
His father spoke up. "Isn't there a league for those final three types?"
"Yes, it's a large island south of Johto and east of Houen, called Tyoke. I've been saving up to go and train there since I heard of it."
"I think I've heard of that," Mirus said slowly. "Isn't it the place with four gyms?"
"That's it," Heron replied. "And you can only enter if you train type 3, 4 or 5 pokemon." She took off her pokeball belt and pointed out her own pokemon.
"Amazing," Mirus said, strands of spagetti sliding off his fork as it tilted. Grim happily caught the pieces as they fell on his face.
"Would you like to go?" his father asked suddenly.
Mirus shook his head. "I've no idea how much it costs."
"We can send you there," his father said, starting to smile. "Both of you," he added, looking at Heron.
"Me too?" she squealed, a smile lighting up her own face.
Mirus's mother put down her fork. "But... what about... danger?" she finished.
"I'll be fine, Mum. It's about time I set out what I've always dreamed of doing. I'm tired of staying behind while everyone else leaves on a pokemon journey. Please."
"You did say we'd let him go on a journey."
"Yes, but... so far from home?"
"I'll only be gone some months maybe. A year at most. And I'll have my phone with me."
"I'll buy you a PokeGear," his father said proudly. "Now you're a trainer."
His mother sighed, knowing she was beaten. "Fine."
"You mean it?" Heron answered.
"Yes, as long as you go with him, Heron. I'd hate to think of him travelling alone."
Heron nodded vigorously. "Thank you, Mrs Metcalfe."
"Rachel," she corrected quietly.
"So, Heron, now that's sorted, where abouts do you live? In this village?" Mirus's father asked her.
"Erm, yes. Alder Way."
"That's good. Would you be allowed to leave on a journey?"
"Yes." No hesitation there, Mirus saw, but a tiny flicker of concern in those eyes.
"Brilliant. I'll book some tickets and you can take the ferry from Vermillion. Not fancy, I'm afraid, but they'll do. How about you leave on Monday?" Mr Metcalf said happily. "I'll book you some tickets."
"Two days?" Mirus's mother asked.
"Doggy!" Michelle laughed, as Grim appeared near her foot. He yapped at the sound.
Heron laughed. "I love this family!"
Rachel looked flattered.
---
"Thank you, Mr and Mrs Metcalf... I mean Rachel," Heron said, starting to go a little pink.
"Anytime, Heron. We'll see you on Monday. How about you come here at half eight, if it's not too much trouble. The ferry leaves at noon."
"Thank you," she said again. "It's getting a bit late. Bye!" She laughed and slipped out of the door.
"Nice girl," Mirus's father declaired.
However, Mirus's attention was focused on the table. "Uh-oh... she left her pokeball belt." He walked over and picked it up, red-and-white orbs still attached. "I'd better ride after her."
He slipped it into his pocket for safekeeping. "I'll be back in a minute," he said. "Come on, Grim!"
His mother bit her lip, but said nothing.
Mirus rode out in the dusk. Heron had gone left, he remembered dimly. Alder Way... A vague memory floated across his mind. Alder Way was past the park entrance, and then right... he mouthed directions as he started riding, calling out Heron's name. Grim was sprinting alongside like a black shadow, surprisingly agile in the dusk.
Finally the signpost for Heron's street appeared, and in the fading light he saw a pink-haired figure slip through a door of one of the houses. Mirus sighed with relief, and rode harder.
He braked and leaned his bike against the waist-high fence, before reaching up and knocking on the door. Lights gleamed in most of the downstairs rooms.
A man answered after two knocks. He was tall and was holding a beer in one hand. Behind him, noises and smells erupted that were suggesting a party, but his expression was sullen.
"Excuse me," Mirus asked, trying to remember the name Heron had said when he was healing Grim. "Mr Stevens? Is Heron there?"
The man shook his head, frowning. "I'm not Stevens," he said, "And there is no Heron here." His voice was rising during the speach, and his expression quickly changed to one of anger, as if something Mirus said had annoyed him.
"Oh. Sorry, I--" Mirus began, before the door slammed in his face. He sighed heavily. Either the man was drunk, or he was lying, or the girl who'd run into this house was not Heron after all.
He was about to leave when he heard a muffled but angry shout through the door, followed by someone stomping upstairs. "Heron!"
Mirus stopped, curious, and motioned for Grim, who was about to bark, to be quiet. He crept round to the side of the building, and gazed up at the windows. Only one light showed upstairs.
Was Heron really here?
---
Grim started to whimper as Mirus drew closer to the shadow surrounding the house, avoiding any windows streaming with light. He looked up at the first floor, where the one light shone, and searched for ways to get that high.
His gaze fell on a crawling ivy plant stretching close to the lighted window, but the thought he had disappeared immediatly. Climbing was not Mirus's strong point, and he didn't want to risk bruises or being discovered.
A pear tree stood near the back of the house, around the same height as the first-floor windows. It was the wrong end of the house, but it was a start. Grim whimpered again as Mirus walked quietly towards the tree, and started to climb. He silenced him with an irrated wave of his hand, and concentrated on the climb. Trees were easier, he thought. They had more branches to catch you if you slipped, and less chance of falling away under your fingers and feet.
Mirus reached the level of windows, and pondered over what to do next. Another light had quickly flicked on, close to where he was, and he stopped, barely daring to breathe.
Maybe I've got the wrong house, he thought. I shouldn't be doing this, I should wait until tomorrow.
But another niggling voice in his brain told him that he might as well see what was going on, now that he was here, and anyway, hadn't that man called for Heron when he had said she wasn't there?
Mirus gritted his teeth and pulled himself along. There was a four-inch-wide overhang made from bricks someway underneth the windows, just wide enough to walk on. But there was nothing to cling onto with his hands. The ivy was the only grabbable thing around, and it was a good two metres or so away. He looked down, just for an instant, and saw Grim, head on paws. For the first time Mirus appprechiated just how high up he was, and began to think that this could be a bad idea.
But, somehow, he continued through his paces; one foot on the overhang, one hand reaching for another, smaller overhang over the window. Of course, there'd be nothing to hold onto between windows, so he'd have to move quickly.
What am I doing? he asked himself, grabbing onto the window by the tips of is fingers, and slowly edging both feet a couple of centimetres. No answer sprang forth from his mind, so he kept moving.
When he reached the first lit window, he found that the curtains were drawn, so he breathed a sigh of relief and moved on towards the second. The second he came within reach of the ivy, he let go of the window's overhang he had been holding and made a wild grab for the opposing plant. For a terrible second he was convinced that this sudden movement would rip the roots out of the wall, but they held. Mirus slowly pulled his feet across so that he could look in the window.
The curtains were closed. Mirus weighed several different odds in his head, before tapping, gently at first, on the window. then the tapping grew louder, but he aruptly stopped it as the curtains were drawn back.
To his relief it he saw it was Heron. He almost waved, but remembered that he needed more support if the window was going to be opened.
Her mouth fell open as she saw him, and shestarted to say something. Mirus shook his head, and she finally opened the window.
"Hello," he said weakly.
"What are you doing?" Heron asked, half-amazed, half-angry.
Good question, Mirus thought. Aloud he said, "You left Onix and Ekans at my house." Suddenly he realised that he couldn't reach them without falling.
She sighed, obviously not convinced with the answer. "You'd better come in," she said, opening the left-hand window, furthest away from him. Mirus gratefully stumbled through, Heron pulling at his collar, until he landed with a thump on the bedroom floor. She glanced towards the door, horrified, for a few moments, before breathing a sigh of relief.
Mirus drew out her belt, and handed it to her. At the same time he noticed a fresh, red-purple bruise on her chin. "What happened?" he asked.
She shrugged. "I tripped."
This time, however, Mirus didn't let it lie. "Listen," he said. "Something's up, but I'm not going to make accusations. I came to your house just now, and asked a man whether anyone called Heron lived here. He told me no, and slammed the door, but then I heard someone inside call your name." He stopped talking and looked at her. "I'm thinking something's up."
She sighed again, and turned away. "Alright," she said, not looking at him. "I live here with my dad. My mum died last year and my dad, who I hadn't seen since I was around five, turned up suddenly, promising to look after me. He moved into our house." She paused, expecting Mirus to answer.
"I'm sorry," he said. "But... what was he talking about? You not being here? Was that your dad?"
"Probably," she said, turning back. She showed no expression on her face. "As I said, he moved here, but doesn't care about me. He only wanted the house and the money, but makes me stay so he still gets money to look after me. He only feeds me and things so I don't run off." She snorted. "That's one of the reasons why I wanted a pokemon, to leave this place. I'd never really cared much about them before."
Mirus started to nod, but pointed to her bruise. "Did you really trip over?"
She looked like she was going to say something else, but stopped. "Yes," she said. Before he could say anything, she continued. "Look, please don't ask any more questions. Not here anyway. Thanks for bringing my pokemon back, but you shouldn't come here again. I'll be in the park tomorrow."
He nodded, slowly, before turning to the window, and putting a leg out.
"Do you need help?" she asked him.
Mirus was about to reply in the affermative, but shook his head instead. "I'll be alright." He lowered himself onto the overhang, and skidded the last two metres to the ground, ignoring the burning pains in his hands. "Come on Grim," he said to the dog. "Let's go home."
---
"You're late," scolded his mother. "Did you give back Heron's pokemon?"
"Yes," Mirus said, distractedly.
"Well, why are you so late?"
Mirus shook his head. "We talked."
-----------
E/N: Whew, what a long chapter. Hopefully you had noticed before that something had been going on with Heron, and I'll include the rest in the next chapter. Please review!
"So, Mirus, any plans for what kind of pokemon you'd like to train?" his father asked.
Mirus felt Grim's warm weight on his feet, and grinned. "Well, I'm starting to thing that dog pokemon might be the best to train...," he started, before Heron interrupted.
"Great! That means you'll be a Type 3 trainer, like me!" she said, smiling at him.
"What do you mean?" he asked, thinking of her pokemon. "Snakes?"
"That's right. I'm aiming to be great snake trainer. Heron, the snake hunter."
"I'd imagine you to be a bird trainer," Mirus's mother said.
"I know. But I prefer snakes," Heron replied, twisting spagetti around her fork.
"What do you mean by Type 3?" Miruys asked. In all his research, he's never heard of these types.
"Well, there are five types of pokemon trainer, not including breeder, co-ordinator, etc. Type 1 trains random types of pokemon, and are the most common. Type 2 trains only certain types like fire, water, grass or something, and are usually found in gyms." She paused for breath and sensed Mirus hanging onto her every word.
"Type 3- that's me- train a type of specie only, such as dog, cat, dinosaur, snake or something. Type 4 trains pokemon in a specie, but those specie can only be, or often are, one type, and not all of that specie fits the catergory. Like birds, which can only be Flying, or fish, which are Water. And Type 5 pokemon have a type name, but pokemon of that catergory that aren't always that type, like Dragon. Charizard is a dragon, but not a Dragon type, though Dragonite is both."
Mirus nodded, still absorbing the infomation.
His father spoke up. "Isn't there a league for those final three types?"
"Yes, it's a large island south of Johto and east of Houen, called Tyoke. I've been saving up to go and train there since I heard of it."
"I think I've heard of that," Mirus said slowly. "Isn't it the place with four gyms?"
"That's it," Heron replied. "And you can only enter if you train type 3, 4 or 5 pokemon." She took off her pokeball belt and pointed out her own pokemon.
"Amazing," Mirus said, strands of spagetti sliding off his fork as it tilted. Grim happily caught the pieces as they fell on his face.
"Would you like to go?" his father asked suddenly.
Mirus shook his head. "I've no idea how much it costs."
"We can send you there," his father said, starting to smile. "Both of you," he added, looking at Heron.
"Me too?" she squealed, a smile lighting up her own face.
Mirus's mother put down her fork. "But... what about... danger?" she finished.
"I'll be fine, Mum. It's about time I set out what I've always dreamed of doing. I'm tired of staying behind while everyone else leaves on a pokemon journey. Please."
"You did say we'd let him go on a journey."
"Yes, but... so far from home?"
"I'll only be gone some months maybe. A year at most. And I'll have my phone with me."
"I'll buy you a PokeGear," his father said proudly. "Now you're a trainer."
His mother sighed, knowing she was beaten. "Fine."
"You mean it?" Heron answered.
"Yes, as long as you go with him, Heron. I'd hate to think of him travelling alone."
Heron nodded vigorously. "Thank you, Mrs Metcalfe."
"Rachel," she corrected quietly.
"So, Heron, now that's sorted, where abouts do you live? In this village?" Mirus's father asked her.
"Erm, yes. Alder Way."
"That's good. Would you be allowed to leave on a journey?"
"Yes." No hesitation there, Mirus saw, but a tiny flicker of concern in those eyes.
"Brilliant. I'll book some tickets and you can take the ferry from Vermillion. Not fancy, I'm afraid, but they'll do. How about you leave on Monday?" Mr Metcalf said happily. "I'll book you some tickets."
"Two days?" Mirus's mother asked.
"Doggy!" Michelle laughed, as Grim appeared near her foot. He yapped at the sound.
Heron laughed. "I love this family!"
Rachel looked flattered.
---
"Thank you, Mr and Mrs Metcalf... I mean Rachel," Heron said, starting to go a little pink.
"Anytime, Heron. We'll see you on Monday. How about you come here at half eight, if it's not too much trouble. The ferry leaves at noon."
"Thank you," she said again. "It's getting a bit late. Bye!" She laughed and slipped out of the door.
"Nice girl," Mirus's father declaired.
However, Mirus's attention was focused on the table. "Uh-oh... she left her pokeball belt." He walked over and picked it up, red-and-white orbs still attached. "I'd better ride after her."
He slipped it into his pocket for safekeeping. "I'll be back in a minute," he said. "Come on, Grim!"
His mother bit her lip, but said nothing.
Mirus rode out in the dusk. Heron had gone left, he remembered dimly. Alder Way... A vague memory floated across his mind. Alder Way was past the park entrance, and then right... he mouthed directions as he started riding, calling out Heron's name. Grim was sprinting alongside like a black shadow, surprisingly agile in the dusk.
Finally the signpost for Heron's street appeared, and in the fading light he saw a pink-haired figure slip through a door of one of the houses. Mirus sighed with relief, and rode harder.
He braked and leaned his bike against the waist-high fence, before reaching up and knocking on the door. Lights gleamed in most of the downstairs rooms.
A man answered after two knocks. He was tall and was holding a beer in one hand. Behind him, noises and smells erupted that were suggesting a party, but his expression was sullen.
"Excuse me," Mirus asked, trying to remember the name Heron had said when he was healing Grim. "Mr Stevens? Is Heron there?"
The man shook his head, frowning. "I'm not Stevens," he said, "And there is no Heron here." His voice was rising during the speach, and his expression quickly changed to one of anger, as if something Mirus said had annoyed him.
"Oh. Sorry, I--" Mirus began, before the door slammed in his face. He sighed heavily. Either the man was drunk, or he was lying, or the girl who'd run into this house was not Heron after all.
He was about to leave when he heard a muffled but angry shout through the door, followed by someone stomping upstairs. "Heron!"
Mirus stopped, curious, and motioned for Grim, who was about to bark, to be quiet. He crept round to the side of the building, and gazed up at the windows. Only one light showed upstairs.
Was Heron really here?
---
Grim started to whimper as Mirus drew closer to the shadow surrounding the house, avoiding any windows streaming with light. He looked up at the first floor, where the one light shone, and searched for ways to get that high.
His gaze fell on a crawling ivy plant stretching close to the lighted window, but the thought he had disappeared immediatly. Climbing was not Mirus's strong point, and he didn't want to risk bruises or being discovered.
A pear tree stood near the back of the house, around the same height as the first-floor windows. It was the wrong end of the house, but it was a start. Grim whimpered again as Mirus walked quietly towards the tree, and started to climb. He silenced him with an irrated wave of his hand, and concentrated on the climb. Trees were easier, he thought. They had more branches to catch you if you slipped, and less chance of falling away under your fingers and feet.
Mirus reached the level of windows, and pondered over what to do next. Another light had quickly flicked on, close to where he was, and he stopped, barely daring to breathe.
Maybe I've got the wrong house, he thought. I shouldn't be doing this, I should wait until tomorrow.
But another niggling voice in his brain told him that he might as well see what was going on, now that he was here, and anyway, hadn't that man called for Heron when he had said she wasn't there?
Mirus gritted his teeth and pulled himself along. There was a four-inch-wide overhang made from bricks someway underneth the windows, just wide enough to walk on. But there was nothing to cling onto with his hands. The ivy was the only grabbable thing around, and it was a good two metres or so away. He looked down, just for an instant, and saw Grim, head on paws. For the first time Mirus appprechiated just how high up he was, and began to think that this could be a bad idea.
But, somehow, he continued through his paces; one foot on the overhang, one hand reaching for another, smaller overhang over the window. Of course, there'd be nothing to hold onto between windows, so he'd have to move quickly.
What am I doing? he asked himself, grabbing onto the window by the tips of is fingers, and slowly edging both feet a couple of centimetres. No answer sprang forth from his mind, so he kept moving.
When he reached the first lit window, he found that the curtains were drawn, so he breathed a sigh of relief and moved on towards the second. The second he came within reach of the ivy, he let go of the window's overhang he had been holding and made a wild grab for the opposing plant. For a terrible second he was convinced that this sudden movement would rip the roots out of the wall, but they held. Mirus slowly pulled his feet across so that he could look in the window.
The curtains were closed. Mirus weighed several different odds in his head, before tapping, gently at first, on the window. then the tapping grew louder, but he aruptly stopped it as the curtains were drawn back.
To his relief it he saw it was Heron. He almost waved, but remembered that he needed more support if the window was going to be opened.
Her mouth fell open as she saw him, and shestarted to say something. Mirus shook his head, and she finally opened the window.
"Hello," he said weakly.
"What are you doing?" Heron asked, half-amazed, half-angry.
Good question, Mirus thought. Aloud he said, "You left Onix and Ekans at my house." Suddenly he realised that he couldn't reach them without falling.
She sighed, obviously not convinced with the answer. "You'd better come in," she said, opening the left-hand window, furthest away from him. Mirus gratefully stumbled through, Heron pulling at his collar, until he landed with a thump on the bedroom floor. She glanced towards the door, horrified, for a few moments, before breathing a sigh of relief.
Mirus drew out her belt, and handed it to her. At the same time he noticed a fresh, red-purple bruise on her chin. "What happened?" he asked.
She shrugged. "I tripped."
This time, however, Mirus didn't let it lie. "Listen," he said. "Something's up, but I'm not going to make accusations. I came to your house just now, and asked a man whether anyone called Heron lived here. He told me no, and slammed the door, but then I heard someone inside call your name." He stopped talking and looked at her. "I'm thinking something's up."
She sighed again, and turned away. "Alright," she said, not looking at him. "I live here with my dad. My mum died last year and my dad, who I hadn't seen since I was around five, turned up suddenly, promising to look after me. He moved into our house." She paused, expecting Mirus to answer.
"I'm sorry," he said. "But... what was he talking about? You not being here? Was that your dad?"
"Probably," she said, turning back. She showed no expression on her face. "As I said, he moved here, but doesn't care about me. He only wanted the house and the money, but makes me stay so he still gets money to look after me. He only feeds me and things so I don't run off." She snorted. "That's one of the reasons why I wanted a pokemon, to leave this place. I'd never really cared much about them before."
Mirus started to nod, but pointed to her bruise. "Did you really trip over?"
She looked like she was going to say something else, but stopped. "Yes," she said. Before he could say anything, she continued. "Look, please don't ask any more questions. Not here anyway. Thanks for bringing my pokemon back, but you shouldn't come here again. I'll be in the park tomorrow."
He nodded, slowly, before turning to the window, and putting a leg out.
"Do you need help?" she asked him.
Mirus was about to reply in the affermative, but shook his head instead. "I'll be alright." He lowered himself onto the overhang, and skidded the last two metres to the ground, ignoring the burning pains in his hands. "Come on Grim," he said to the dog. "Let's go home."
---
"You're late," scolded his mother. "Did you give back Heron's pokemon?"
"Yes," Mirus said, distractedly.
"Well, why are you so late?"
Mirus shook his head. "We talked."
-----------
E/N: Whew, what a long chapter. Hopefully you had noticed before that something had been going on with Heron, and I'll include the rest in the next chapter. Please review!