Whew, it's only about 10 days until my 1st anniversary as an author. Feels
like it was yesterday when I first wrote my opening chapter of Chiko-envy,
and then sweated over what the reaction would be until 5AM. Well, now it's
a little different, I post a chapter and only sweat over it until 4AM. ^_^;
Anyhow, a few thank-yous to go out as per usual - Cultnirvana, you're a miracle. Ideas, checks, suggestions, discussions.... without you this probably would still be on the drawing board. And Heironeous, huge thanks for your impressions, beta-reading and spotting enough spelling mistakes to write a whole new dictionary with. Also, Light Sneasel, Dragoness, Sailor- Knight Shadowstar, Fan-girl and the Puppet-Killer, your reviews really do make me happy. Big hugs and thanks from me! I had the idea of asking for a certian amount of reviews before continuation like some other authors do, but I want to keep writing, and knowing my luck I wouldn't get what I was demanding. Ah well.
Okay, enough ranting, time to get on with it.
Where The River Flows - Chapter III
6.30AM - We talked and talked last night. But still, the words I long for do not come. I've tried everything, listening to my favourite music on my CD player, reading my favourite childhood book, one I still carry with me to make me smile and remember long past times. No smile will come now. I can find little to look forward to, little to look back on. Being torn in two directions, trapped between the devil and the deep blue sea. I'm in limbo, hung in purgatory and unable to move. There are two ways out, to face the devil down and risk my soul, or to wade out into the sea and disappear. I've always been tempted by the devil, but I've always loved the ocean.
The wood-effect door slams violently behind me, courtesy of my furious shove. For a moment I stand stock still in the middle of the floor, being stared at in shock by the three Pokemon I'd followed into the room, frozen bar for my fingers which clench and straighten in rhythm with the waves of anger lapping through me. I cast eyes around for something to vent it on, anything will do. A window to smash, a pillow to pound, anything. To think that she could say such things to me. And to think that he could take her side! Don't the years between us matter? Don't I matter? Not as much as her, obviously. Perhaps it's because I'm older, more mature, he thinks I can look after myself. Maybe that shows the amount he cares for me is less than how much I care for him, or maybe he's beginning to listen to, and believe her little taunts. But it's just not fair!
"It's not fair!" I find my mouth screaming, with fearful venom, before I fling myself onto the middle of the three beds in the room, slamming my head into the peach pillow. I just stay there, face burrowed, brooding in the darkness.
("Are you crying?") Chikorita's cautious yet sympathetic tone doesn't lighten the clouds circling my head, in fact a few begin to rumble with unspent thunder. I don't bother doing her the honour of lifting my head to reply.
"No. Go away." Simple. No pretences.
("Where? This is the room for all of us, you go away.") Pikachu answers, frustration harsh in her voice. I let my malice simmer for a moment. It's not like me to be cruel, but I really can't help myself right now.
"Why don't you go stick your head down the toilet and flush it?" Silence. Then Pikachu's voice comes through again, right next to my ear.
("Why don't you repeat that?") This time it's a gentle purr, like the cat with the mouse at it's mercy. Well I'm not going to be her mouse.
"Okay, in case you're deaf as well as stupid, I said : Why don't you go stick your..." Cyndaquil breaks in, cool as ice.
("Enough, both of you.") I ignore him.
"...Head down the toilet and flush it?" I snigger quietly to myself in the pillow, trying to ward off the darkness slowly creeping up inside me, yet it's unstoppable as witholding the lengthening dusk. Depression, uncertainty, angst, anger, all burning a trail marked by the incessant bickering I hate with unholy passion, yet can't ignore.
("Don't start Misty. Just don't. Please!") Chikorita almost begs, I can almost hear the tears forming in her voice. She's always been upset by people fighting, and Ash told me he had to go and calm her down a few days back. My guilt deepens still further, but my pride, god damn it, refuses to back down.
"So what if I get annoyed? I think I'm allowed!" I finally pull my face from the pillow, eyes flashing with fury. "Did you hear what she said to me?! And I should accept it? Like fuck!" Chikorita's red eyes grow hazy, and she hops off the bed, trying to get away from my stare.
("It's not like you were blameless!") Pikachu hisses, before jumping down herself after Chikorita. What?
("You did go too far, Misty.") Cyndaquil muses, more to himself than to me. Bitterness and regret begin to spread through me, like the poison spreading through Sleeping Beauty the moment she pricked her finger.
"What do you mean?" I don't know if it's curiosity, or fatalism, but I want to hear the criticism. It's like I'm almost going to revel in it.
("She made a little joke about you, and you told her she had a mouth like a draughtsboard, and told her she had nothing to live for! To her, you might seem fat, just since she's so small.") He's right, I could appear overweight to her, she's even thinner than I used to be. Perhaps that's why Ash chose to go with her, he likes to see that part of me in her. The little Misty of years ago, the one he first knew.
"I can't believe Ash would choose her over me though! I mean, he's only known her five days, and she was horrible to me in the first place." Petty, yes, hypocritical maybe, but I'm being honest. That hurt, Ash telling me to wait for him. I thought that we were out here for the both of us, that we weren't only working for my future, but for......us. Our future. Unwritten, unmentioned, but I thought unquestionable. And the whole time I was working towards my future, and even now, I'm being held back by the other side of the coin, the thing I would lose if I were to become a nurse.
("If for some reason he felt Hazel needed his attention first, he had a good reason. He would never neglect you Misty, about that I'm utterly certain.") I'd love to believe Cyndaquil's dulcent tone. But something echoes time and time again in my head, that he still chose her over me....
("Come on Misty, you have to let Hazel be who she is. She's rough around the edges, but rise above it. You'll get on okay if you give it time.") Pikachu climbs back up on to the bed, giving me an imploring look. Before any more can be said, there is a knock on the door. Everyone on the bed looks at everyone else, hoping someone else is first to move to answer it. Then, the door opens anyway. Chikorita steps back from it, having gone to open it herself. Ash is first in, careful neutrality sculpted in his face. Hazel follows hesitantly, looking nervous.
"Hazel, the shower is through there, okay?" He points off to a door on his left, just a few feet into the room from the entrance. She nods mutely. "And here, take my bag, there should be a towel in there, but if there isn't, then use one from my bag." He hands his bag to her, and she disappears through the door. It shuts, and there is the click of a lock. He looks me in the eye, with a brief smile. "Someone forgot to tell me the room number, so I'm a little late." He moves over to the bed and places himself down on the end of it, still looking at me. "Are you okay Misty?" I want to tell him some sort of story which explains how I feel, but something else has taken control of my voice.
"So, have you got time for me now?" I ask in a dry, cutting tone.
"Misty, please don't be like this." His reply is apologetic, but I want more.
"I thought I was your best friend. But you go and brush me off anyway." I feel a strange mix of pleasure and self-disgust as his expression turns to one of pain.
"It wasn't like that, she needed help. I know you're strong enough to cope for a few minutes..." I interrupt, riding on the crest of a wave.
"Yeah, right. Misty's a trooper, she'll survive, she'll wait in line." I know it's horrible, but I'm being fuelled by something different right now. Jealousy. I can see Ash's hazel eyes soften at that last comment, and in a way I'm relieved that I've hurt him. At least it shows he cares.
"Come on, listen to me. Hazel - " That name again. I don't know if it's the name itself, or the fact it's coming from Ash's mouth that infuriates me so.
"Hazel this, Hazel that. Nice to see you've found a love in your life Ash. The little sister you've never had, or the girl you've never been able to get?" The change in his eyes is impossible to justify by description. They've gone from soft as down to solid as marble in a heartbeat.
"I never thought you'd sink so low. I'm going out, see you later." He gets up, and moves quickly out of the door, and Chikorita follows him through before it shuts with a definite thud. I just roll over and stare at the ceiling for a moment, which is becoming blurred with the beginnings of tears in my eyes. I'm a fool, why did I say that? I make a promise to myself at that moment, I'm going to do whatever I have to just to be what he wants me to be. Whether it is look like Hazel, sing like an angel, never say another crossed word, I'm going to do it. Both for Ash, and to prove to myself I'm better for him than Hazel will ever be.
I found when I got into the bathroom that the shower was an attachment to a bath, fitted out in tasteful peach, like pretty much the rest of the room. So, I've been floating in it for about an hour now, just enjoying the novelty of the feeling, while reading a book I found in Ash's bag. I never had a bath at home. The nearest I could get to it was a swim in my favourite place, the Cerulean Sea. I shake off any temptation to daydream about Cerulean, and concentrate on the book. It's a good one, called "The BFG" by Roald Dahl. It seems a bit young for Ash, but it was in there. He'd wrapped it in a see-through plastic cover to keep it from getting damaged easily, which is a good thing since it'd be soaked by my wet, wrinkly fingers otherwise. His diary also fell out of his bag when I went looking for a towel, and tempting as it was to look at it, I held back. I also found some things which I wish I could see on him, but that's another story, and a few more things of interest. I know I shouldn't pry, but it's something which is natural to me. Ah, stop dreaming, and keep reading the book! My eyes do, but my drowsy mind still wanders. Wanders to thoughts about who left an hour ago, and why. To where my friend, no, ex-friend is, what he's doing now. And to what is happening now, back where I used to live. I wonder if they have any idea where I am? Probably not, this is not the way a beginner often comes, because of rough terrain and dangerous wildlife. And can I stop thinking about that!
I toss the book over the side, and, after closing my eyes, sink gratefully into the lukewarm water fully. It's been a long time since I had a proper wash of any sort, not since my second day out. I learnt then that water in the mountains is cold, and also that I hadn't packed towels. It took me half an hour to dry off, and half an hour standing in the nude in the middle of nowhere is not an experience I want to have again. It's one reason I didn't want to go swimming with them, I could've found a way around the swimsuit problem somehow, but when it came to drying off they would have been even more suspicious. I mean who goes out into the wilderness and doesn't bring a towel? I haven't even got enough clothes to dry myself off with a spare set. Well, tomorrow I'm going to make up for lost time and go on a shopping spree. If that's possible in this poxy little village. Slowly I float back up to the surface of the bath, and set about rubbing in yet more of the complementary shampoo to my already well washed scalp. I'm going to need to stock up on toiletries too, and on make- up. I shouldn't need to use so much of that now, it has been more than a week since I left, almost ten days. My wandering gaze catches a little circular mirror on a silver wire stand at the other end of the bath, and I reach over, picking it up. I wipe the condensation off it with the back of my hand, and examine myself critically. My hazel eyes peer back from beneath a wild mop of frothy hair, out of a flushed pink face. I was named Hazel because I had a lot of unusually brown hair when I was born, and my Hazel eyes just added to the effect. It's nice too see them only Hazel again...
"Hazel, for the last time, could you hurry up in there?" Misty's voice breaks the reflective silence.
"What do you mean for the last time?" She hasn't called me before....Unless it was when my head was under the water.
"I mean I've called you several times, and I wish you'd start listening." She grumbles, sounding a little desperate. I weigh up whether to feign ignorance, or make her spell out why she wants to get in here. I think the second choice seems fun.
"Why?" I load up innocence in my voice, and wait for the reply.
"Why do you think?!" The urgent reply. I smile to myself, this could be fun.
"Uh, because you want a bath? Your hair needs washing?"
"Uh, no!" Then silence. Hmm, what should I say next?
"Do I get another guess?" I bite back a giggle, trying to imagine the look on her face.
"I need to go to the toilet. Badly!" Misty bites the bullet. Shame, I was enjoying the teasing. I eye the tap and shower attachment. Ah.
"Well, give me a second, I need to rinse out my hair." A little snigger slips out as I turn on the shower hose, sending the noise of flowing, splashing water throughout the room. I can just imagine Misty trying her damndest not to listen. To add to my own enjoyment, I start singing to myself as I rinse the suds out. I know I'm cruel, but sometimes I can't help but enjoy it. And in my opinion, she deserves everything she's getting from me, for a lot of things. It hasn't crossed my mind yet, though, that she might have no idea why.
"Hazel, in ten seconds I'm going to have Cyndaquil burn the blasted door down, if you don't open it!" There's a tremor in her voice now. The thought even passes that I should push her to see what she does, but enough is enough for now. I clamber out of the bath, and pick up the two towels I'd pulled out of Ash's bag, before wrapping them tightly around my chest and waist. Oh, I forgot to turn the shower off, how thoughtless of me.heh heh. My inner laughter is stopped short when I put one wet foot onto the plastic- covered book, which, thanks to my enthusiasm in the bath, is on a wet tile floor. My feet travel into view a split-second before the back of my head hits the tiles. My sight lands on the ceiling, which is floating around, moving in and out of focus.
"Hazel, open the door! Now!" Misty bangs the door, hysteria edging into her tone. It brings me around just enough to moan something.
"Misty, help..help me..please.." The world grows yet more hazy, and I let myself drift in this new feeling, like my senses have been enveloped by cotton wool. I sense movement, and vaguely see Misty heading for the toilet before she sees me, and she stops to peer down. She seems to call out to me, but try as I might, I can't reply. She then looks up and says something to someone else, before disappearing out of view towards the toilet, and I hear her sit down with a relieved sigh. Another shape swims into view, something large and blue. I think I've seen a picture of one before.a L- La.Lapras? Something adds up in the thickening mist, she must have used Lapras to knock the door open. I think I hear Misty flush the toilet before she comes back into my sight, closer this time, seemingly staring into me. The mist lining my senses has thickened to a fog, and just keeps condensing, darkening further to something smokey, as someone picks me up. I can't be sure who, but I can't summon the will to find out, as consciousness fades with the speed and finality of a landslide to nothingness.
I sit next to Ash, looking around at an unfamiliar scene. There are few places to go in a town small as this, so Ash decided to go into a pub, and have some lemonade while cooling off. It's not a place I'm familiar with, since neither Ash or Misty are old enough to drink yet, but we got served on the proviso that he's drinking soft drinks and that the landlord won a tidy sum on my us winning the last championship. It took about ten impatient customers to stop the old guy talking to him ceaselessly. Now we've chosen a nice quiet corner, and I'm contentedly sipping my drink of lemonade and munching on a few dry-roasted peanuts. The mood is nice, the wooden floor and oak-effect rafters creating warmth in the surroundings, the walls almost papered with pictures of old barns, horses and fields. The only down side is the haze of cigarette smoke hanging ghostily in the air and flooding my sense of smell, combined with the dry tint of hops and whisky fumes creating a still deeper and more intoxicating scent. Ash idly strokes my leaf, eyes fixed in the middle distance, barely touching his drink. I want to know what's on his mind.
("Ash, are you awake?") I nudge him gently, waiting for a response. For a second there is none, then he sighs quietly, reaches for his drink and takes a mouthful.
"Yeah." He lifts his other hand off my head, and it moves to his chin, now looking deep in thought.
("Are you going to tell me what you're thinking, or do I have to guess?") I ask, leaning up to take a suck on the length of straws which have been piped together to allow me sup my drink easily.
"I think you could probably guess." Is the absent-minded response.
("Okay, about Misty and Hazel?") He takes another mouthful of his drink, still gazing into space.
"Yeah."
("Come on, give me more than that.") I cajole, moving to rub cat-like against his leg. It works it's usual magic, he turns his gaze down to me.
"Well you know already. Misty is jealous of Hazel whenever she has my attention and gets pissed that I am looking after her, Hazel is jealous that Misty has always taken first place in my affections, and is angry at her for some other reasons. What's obvious to me now is that there's more to Hazel than meets the eye. I've got a lot of little bits and pieces which don't add up, but I'd rather keep them to myself." I give him my best doe- eyed stare, and he gives a short chuckle. "Okay, if you promise to keep them to quiet. Don't go hurling accusations, okay?"
("Would I ever?") I promise, with heartfelt certainty. He gives me a final appraising look, before nodding.
"Well, for one, she hasn't got any towels. I gave her mine, but acted like I didn't notice she had none. When she went digging through her bag for something the other day, she threw underwear and clothes everywhere, almost emptied the bag, but didn't pull out so much as a tea-towel. Her food rations were almost all sweets and crisps, junk food, no tins, meat or veg. She hadn't prepared at all, like she left without a thought. Two, the clothes, pants and everything she'd strewn all over the place were all cheap, some of them brand new, like they'd been worn once, others well darned, nothing in between. But her trainers are really, really expensive, top of the range. Three, she dislikes Misty for more reasons than just jealousy. I'm getting towards why, but I don't know for sure yet." His brow creases with worry for a moment. "The other thing is a little more unusual." I study his expression, he really is worried. I wonder why?
("What could be so bad Ash? She seems harmless.") He turns so he can give me his full attention, giving my back a rub.
"It's just something which makes me suspicious." He thinks for another moment, then he shrugs. "I may well be over-reacting. It's probably just a beginners mistake after all. But then again, she knew Cyndaquil aren't common around here, and that's not something a total novice would know." I wait patiently as he sorts the words he's going to say out in his head. ".You know that time when we went swimming, Hazel sent out her Charmander? Well, Cyndaquil went to talk with it, and later told me that he was really nice, although he wasn't really sure what he was doing there."
("So?") I don't quite know what he's getting at. He seems like he's going to make his point, but he looks up at the clock, and shakes his head.
"Ah, I'm sure it's nothing. But we'd better be getting back, I think I need to make up with Misty. I don't like letting things lie." He drains the last of his glass, before getting up slowly. "I get so guilty sometimes, I feel like I should be paying more attention to her. Maybe it just seems like I'm ignoring her because we've been alone for so long, we're both used to being the centre of each other's attention. But I'm just trying to be fair. Hazel is becoming like a little sister to me, I enjoy helping her along the best I can. It makes me feel like I'm being useful." He stands and pauses to pet me for a moment, before continuing in a reflective tone. "And something Misty said was sort of true, I've always wanted a little sister, someone I could love without the worries of further complications like the ones always implied between a boy and a girl. Hazel fell into my life now, and at the exact time it seemed Misty's time with me is limited, as she may move into college and get fixed down for a while. I'm not quite ready to settle down myself, I've got so much more to do." He finishes with little more than a whisper, regret and worry lain deep within it.
("Never thought you'd have woman troubles then? And while we're on the subject, you'd better not forget about me.") I chuckle quietly and get up too, savouring both his touch and the taste of the last of the peanuts.
"When would I ever forget about you?" He scoops me up into his arms and gives me a sunny grin.
("Just making sure. Now, you be sure to tell me what you were thinking about later, okay?") He nods, and makes a move for the door with me still in his arms. It's finally getting dark outside, and there is a slight edge to the air, a freshness which cools rather than chills, but still reminds what could be in a few months. On our way into the pub we spotted a fish and chip shop/chinese take-away just down the street, so we head for it to pick up some supper. Hopefully all will be calm by the time we get back.
I look over the still form on the bed, eyes closed and body limp, with a great deal of clashing emotion. Hazel seems okay, she's breathing and her pulse is fine, there's no bleeding and I've felt around her head gently and all seems okay, she's probably just concussed. Both Ash and myself did a first-aid course a while ago, for safety while travelling, and I've been doing still more on it for my studies. But I just wish she would come around to prove the fact to myself, I won't believe my diagnosis until it is proven either way. I don't know what happened to her, but it looks like she slipped by the bath. If it wasn't for the fact I'd got Lapras to shove the door open in a desperate attempt to get to the toilet before I wet myself, she might have been there for a while without anyone knowing. On one hand I might be expected to revel in her misfortune, but I'm not heartless. No matter what we said to each other over the last few days, I never wanted something like this to happen, if for no other reason than I don't like people getting hurt. Ash always said (increasingly jokily) that he used to be scared of me, but as I've grown up my threats have become more and more obviously empty. I'm stolen from my thoughts by the entry of Pikachu and Cyndaquil through the ajar door, after their hunt for the resident nurse.
("Nope, she's not in. Probably got a hot date or something.") Pikachu chirps, hopping up to the bed. For a moment we both study Hazel for some sort of flicker of life, but nope, not yet.
("Oh god, I'm hungry.") Cyndaquil moans, slumping down in a pose of pitiful desparation. Despite myself, I smile.
"That makes two of us. But I can't leave, and it's no good you trying to get food, no-one would know what you are on about." I sigh, feeling my stomach rumble. "I guess we'll have to use the last of our tins, and wait until tomorrow morning."
"Well if you really must, I could always eat all this myself." I whirl around to see Ash stroll in, a heavy plastic bag in each hand, the contents of which my nose has already told me. I slide on a shy smile, one he returns in kind until he sets eyes on Hazel. "What's wrong with her?" I shake my head.
"She slipped up on the floor of the bathroom and banged her head. I checked her, she should be okay." His eyes soften with worry, while mine probably harden in response. Whether she's unconscious or awake, I still feel jealous whenever Ash lavishes attention on her.
"Mind if I take a look?" I shrug my shoulders in response.
"Only if I can have something to eat."
("Me too!") Cyndaquil asks. Ash nods in response, not noticing that Pikachu and Chikorita have already torn open one of the bags of chips and are devouring them with the speed that rain flows down a drainpipe.
"Go ahead. There's fried rice there for you Misty, and some hot sauce too Cyndaquil. Enjoy." Fried rice? Nice. I rustle through the bags until I find a silver tray and a plastic fork, and I grab them before sitting on the middle bed and tearing into it. I've finished the whole lot and cleaned out the corners with my tongue before I even look up. Cyndaquil and Chikorita have both got the hiccups, due to seemingly not bothering to chew their food, and Pikachu is smothering each individual chip in ketchup. Well, I say smothering, drowning is more like it. I pick up an un-opened bag of chips and tuck into them happily, until my sight traces it's way up the bed next to me. Hazel lain unmoving, with Ash's eyes of the same colour looking at her with touching concern. Well, it would be touching to me if it didn't make me feel hollow, hollow as a bubble. I set down the rest of my supper, losing my appetite in the time it takes to turn on a light.
"Uhh." Hazel's eyes flicker, and she takes a deep breath.
My eyes slam open, searching wildly. That smell, not that smell, not this, please.no, not again.
I look up from eating my ketchup to see Hazel stare around like a startled fawn, before she just lets out a tiny squeak. In the blink of an eye she's sat up against the headboard, knees drawn to her chin, hugging the towels to her closely.
"No! Leave me alone! It's not my fault!" A moment of silence as everyone looks at everyone else, each asking the same question. What?
"Hazel, calm down." She still seems delirious, Ash's words have no effect on her. She sniffs the air deeply, and her terror seems to multiply still further, whipping up into a malestrom of confusion and panic.
"No, stay away! I can smell where you've been! You're going to do it again! What did I do? I'm sorry!" She cries, holding her arms out in front of her, but not as if she's reaching for something, more that she's pushing something away, looking to parry not accept.
"Hazel!" Ash moves in quickly and puts his arms around her, hugging her close while whispering inaudible words into her ear. Her arms flail wildly against his back, but they slow almost instantly.
"A-ash?" Barely more than a whimper, a scared child calling from a nightmare. Hazel's eyes seem to focus for a moment before her arms tighten around Ash, and she buries herself into his chest, sobbing with shuddering intensity.
("What's wrong?") I ask, feelings tinged by worry at the sheer power of her distress. Ash just gestures to me to wait for a moment as he rocks her slowly, still cooing in her ear. Slowly, the sobbing slows to nothing and she falls asleep, the only clue to her outburst a pink tinge to her face and the damp trails left by tears. Ash tenderly lays her head back down onto the pillow, and takes off her towels which had become loose and skewed when she'd reacted to severely. He carefully pulls the blankets down the bed, and then pulls them back up over her, right up to her chin, before brushing a few stray hairs away from her eyes.
"Ash, what do you think that was all about?" Misty's puzzled question echoes through the sudden silence. He just looks tenderly down at Hazel for a few moments, before shaking his head.
"I don't know for certain, but I've got a good idea.."
I wish I hadn't eaten all that at once, and I wish I hadn't washed it all down with hot sauce, that's pushing it even for me. I guess I'm having my punishment now, lain flat on my back on the bed nearest the window, staring out into the darkness and trying to count the stars in a vain attempt to take my mind off it. Misty has already excused herself and disappeared off into the bathroom. I think she's running a bath of her own, although I wouldn't be surprised if she's throwing up, the rate she ate her supper with. I'm trying not to listen and find out since my stomach needs little persuasion to follow suit right now. Pikachu is fast asleep, spreadagled on the pillow. Chikorita is trying, like me, to avoid losing the food we'd stuffed down our throats an hour ago. Her face is a much darker green than usual. Ash is still keeping a careful eye on Hazel, who is once again utterly comatose. The first thing he did after the outburst was change clothes and wash his face and hands, and clean his teeth. I have no idea why. But he's got some reason, I'm sure.
("I never want to see a chip again...") Chikorita moans, wringing her eyes shut tightly and rolling onto her other side.
"It's your own fault, I'm afraid. You barely left any for me." Ash chides her gently, with a smile.
("Guilty as charged.") I add, before resolving to try and keep my mouth shut.
"I hope Misty is okay in there. She's been almost an hour." He glances up towards the bathroom, playing absently with his fingernails.
("That's not unusual for her.") Chikorita murmurs dozily.
"Yeah, but normally she makes more noise than a brass band, singing badly and splashing about. I haven't heard a peep out of her." His sight flicks back to Hazel, then up to the bathroom again, and I can see him agonising silently. He doesn't want to leave her, but he needs to check up on Misty, he feels guilty that he hasn't done so already. I guess I'll break my resolution.
("You go and knock on the door, I'll be here in case Hazel wakes up.") Nausea floods into my head, but I fight it down. He sends me a silent look of thanks, before getting up, and knocking on the bathroom door. For a moment there is no reply.
"Misty, you all right in there?" Another few seconds of worrying silence.
"Uh, yeah, I'm fine." Her voice sounds a little rough.
"Are you sure?" He replies, in a tone which just screams that he isn't.
"Yeah, I'm almost done in the bath, Won't be long." The answer, a little stronger this time.
"Well, okay." Ash just stares at the door for a few moments, knowing full well that he could go in and check if he really wanted to, since the door, after earlier events, is only being held shut by Misty's rucksack propped against it on the inside. But he just sighs and moves back over to us.
("Why didn't you check?") Chikorita asks quietly, as I crawl over to where he's sat back down, on the edge of the middle bed.
"Because it would have been intruding. I wouldn't want someone coming in to see if I was in the bath."
("But you took Hazel's towels off...") A touch of jealousy there, Chikorita? Well, looks like Ash is going to have to fight ladies off with a stick at this rate.
"I couldn't leave her in that state wrapped in damp towels, she could've caught a chill on top of whatever she's done to herself. I did what was best for her." He seems a little anxious though, as he says it. Looking back, it might seem like a rash thing to do. If Hazel were to over-react, Ash could be in big trouble. But I have a sneaking suspicion she won't.
("Ash, would you tell me what it was you were going to earlier?") What was that? I think Ash isn't best pleased, since he throws Chikorita a "You never know when to keep quiet..." look.
("What's this?") I nudge, trying to get him to explain. He gets up with a gentle sigh, leans over Hazel carefully, and begins speaking whilst checking her for response.
"Cyndaquil, you said you talked to Hazel's Charmander?"
("Yes, he seems nice, if timid.") He nods to himself almost as much as us at my answer. Something seems to catch his eye, and he moves closer to Hazel's face.
"And what did Hazel call him when she first released him?" ....Oh.
("She called him - Charlotte?!") I think Chikorita twigs at the same time as I do. She didn't know what sex her starter Pokemon was.
("But you said she knew that Cyndaquil were rare in the mountains, and that it's not something a beginner would know.") Chikorita is chewing things over, and she isn't liking the taste. And neither do I.
("Also, he wasn't really sure what he was doing there.") I add, and we all pause for a moment. I think we're all thinking the same thing, although none of us wish to voice it. Maybe, just maybe he isn't hers....So who was he with? Did she get him in a trade, or did she take him from someone else? But that just doesn't feel right, if the Charmander had been with someone else he would've mentioned it to me.
("I'm officially confused. And suspicious.") Chikorita says quietly, gazing silently at the far wall, still thinking. Then Ash lets out a thoughtful noise.
"This is odd." He peers in closer to Hazel's face, and runs a gentle finger over a few places. Did Misty say Hazel hit her face?" I think for a second, then shake my head.
("No, she slipped up and hit the back of her head.")
"Hmmm, well they couldn't be from today then, besides, they're almost invisible." What are "they"?
("Whatcha on about?") Chikorita asks, coming around to the present.
"She's got marks on her face, like very old scrapes. And a few shades where there might have been bruises. If I hadn't been helping Misty with her studies, I wouldn't have noticed them, but I know what to look for. The scratch she got from that holly bush when she met us is almost gone, but these are a bit older. I wonder how she got them." How indeed?
("We'll add it to the list of things to ask her once she gets up. Which is too long already in my opinion.") I mutter dryly, to general agreement.
("So, what to do now?") Chikorita shrugs. Misty is still in the bathroom, it's too late to be going anywhere, but a little too early to sleep just yet. And the television is out, since we're so far out in the mountains that our viewing choice consists of the twenty-four hour static channels, about five of them, and the weather channel. And I can get fed up of watching static in pretty short order.
"Well, I've got some cards here, if you're up for a bit of Poker. Aces high, jokers are wild?" Ash pulls out of a bag a pack of very battered cards with the picture of a Horsea on the back. In fact battered would be doing them a disservice. Mutilated would fit better.
("Yeah, I'll go for that.") I agree, knowing I'm going to get some more spending money now. No-one else has noticed that each card has different folds, notches, or a particularly dog-eared corner, so I don't need to see the faces. And they still wonder why I always clean up.
I guess it's time I came out of here, I think they're starting to get worried. Well, if they're not too busy petting I-know-who. I pace the length of the bathroom for about the seven hundred and fifty-sixth time in the last hour and a half, fingers working at the hem of my pink pyjama top. I was in the bath briefly, for about half a second before it became very apparent that Hazel had used the last of the hot water. I got goosepimples on my goosepimples when I plunged just one toe into the frigid water. The boiler will probably be hot again by now, but I've lost interest. I'm just thinking. Thinking about nothing in particular. I guess Hazel's accident has made me consider about what I really think about her. I have always had problems with her, she's been like a vicious cat, snarling, spitting, scratching at me. But I get the feeling the cat has been put in a bag and thrown into a lake by someone in the past, and has somehow crawled out, drying itself off but destined to forever carry the watermark on her heart. Yet I still don't know exactly what. I hate to admit it, but it's her relationship with Ash which really galls me. He's amazingly like a father towards her, accepts her snarling with a pinch of salt. But whenever he's busy with her, I miss the time he would otherwise have been sharing with me. And Ash.I think I'm finally admitting it to myself, my feelings for him have developed to something nearing genuine love. The way he's always looked out for others, strangers, Hazel, his Pokemon, me. It makes me think he'll be a great father to someone in the future. And I just want it to be my child that has him as a father. But then again, it feels like I'm being replaced. Perhaps, just perhaps, he loved me more as who I was, not who I am. I pick up the mirror, and look into it. Scouring my face to try and pin down exactly what it is I need to change in it that would make him notice. I cannot see any. My eyes still aqua, my hair red, nose small, mouth expressive. The rest of me, I've grown, but..I think of the food I ate just a while ago. Rice guzzled like I was a starving gannet. Fried chips scoffed without giving time for a breath. Regret settles like a lead blanket across my shoulders, as I drop a hand to my still full abdomen. I think I need to go on a diet, starting tomorrow. A sigh whisps from between my lips, and I put the mirror back at the end of the bath. Well, time to go to bed. I put a hand on the door handle, think for a moment, then instead pick up the bag I'd been using it to prop it closed, and it swings open on it's own.
"Three of a kind, eights."
("Bugger, a two pair, sixes and sevens.")
("Read it and weep guys, full house. Tens and fives.") Cyndaquil sounds triumphant, Chikorita groans like it's something she's heard too many times. I poke my head around the door to see the three of them sat on the middle bed, Ash lain full length with his feet dangling off the end of the bed and his head near the top end putting down his hand with a rueful smile, Chikorita studying the quilt miserably and fiddling with just a few coins, and Cyndaquil almost obscured by a huge mound of change. Looks like the usual result is on the cards. Heh, nice pun, even if I say so myself.
"Everyone in for another round?" Ash asks, shuffling the pack with casino- dealer speed.
("This could well be my last.") Chikorita grumbles, tossing in another few coins.
("Do you need to ask?") Cyndaquil throws in his enterance bet.
"And deal me in too." I put in quietly, enjoying the three pairs of eyes flicking to me, especially the brown ones with relief plainly shining from them.
("And your bet?") Chikorita nudges verbally, possibly to try and break the eye contact between us. I reach into my bag, pull out a handful of coins, and rifle through them.
"How much to buy in?"
("Twenty pence, two rounds, jokers are wild.") I find a silver coin, and flip it into the kitty. Ash deals the cards with great speed, and I pick mine up. Mmmm, not bad.
"So, what have you been doing?" Ash asks idly, picking up his own hand.
"Relaxing."
("In the bath?") Chikorita asks, disappointment scrawled over her face as soon as she sets eyes on what she's been dealt. She's never been good at bluffing.
"Yeah." Ash gives me a puzzled look.
"Why aren't your fingers crinkled up then?" True, they look perfectly normal, but not for someone who supposedly has spent the last hour submerged in water. Not a wrinkle in sight.
"I've been out of the bath for a while, just reading my book. Hazel took it out of your bag, I think she slipped on it." He seems a bit unsure, but doesn't follow up the point.
("Three please.") Cyndaquil picks up his new cards, expressionless. He could do this for a living, I never know what he's thinking.
("Five.") Chikorita throws the lot in, and gets a whole new set. Her expression now suggests that it wasn't an improvement.
"I'll take two." I put down two cards, picking up the ones Ash flips to me, and hide a smile. Mmmmm, better. "And I'll raise fifty pence." The others all comply.
"Dealer takes three." We all sit in silence for a moment.
("Three please.") Chikorita sets three cards aside, picks up the new ones, takes one look at them. ("And I fold.") She throws her cards in.
("Two.") Cyndaquil looks at what he has, and then looks at myself and Ash carefully.
"One." I look at my new card, and bite back a massive grin. "And I'll raise you three pounds." Cyndaquil shakes his head and throws his cards in. So. I gaze at Ash levelly, he returns it.
"Met." He throws in three gold coins. "Dealer takes two." He picks up his fresh cards, and looks at me again. "And I'll raise five." He unravels a blue five pound note, and tosses it nonchalantly on the pile. I look at my hand again, and back up. Yeah, I'll take him.
"I'm in." I give him a coquettish glance, and throw on a Marilyn Monroe- esque voice. "Show me what ya got, sugar!"
"Only if you let it all hang out too darlin'" He replies, with a gambler style drawl. I slip him a wink, and then we both throw down our cards. And look up, and down again. My hand, two kings, two queens and a joker. Full house. His hand, Two queens, two kings and a joker..I don't know why it's funny, but we both burst into peals of laughter.
("Well, shall we call it a night?") Chikorita motions to the total lack of money on the in front of her.
"Yeah, okay. We could always watch the weather channel to help us get to sleep." I snigger, shuffling over to the bed near the window and flopping down onto it.
"Well, we could check tomorrows forecast, just in case." Ash suggests. I know there's no point really. The weather is easy to predict up here. It's clear tonight, it'll be fine tomorrow.
"Hey Ash, do you fancy playing a little game?" The old thing I used to play as a little girl comes back to me as I mess with the pack. And if I play my cards right....I'm on a roll for puns at the moment.
"Go on."
"Well, it's a sort of a fortune telling game. You say a name of a person, place or something, and I split the pack. Whatever card comes up, you have to explain how it relates to that person. Go on, take the cards, I'll show you." I hand him the cards, feeling like I'm eight again. "So, I'm thinking of....Home. Split the pack." He does, and looks at the card.
"Ten of spades." He looks at me imploringly.
"Uhh, well I guess....I lived there for ten years, and every year it felt like I was digging a deeper hole to get out of." Brutally honest. "Here, you have a go." I hold out my hands for the cards.
"Well, I don't know if I'm going to come up with something that interesting. But sure, I'll have a go." He gives them to me, and inwardly I jump for joy. Maybe, given time tonight, I can get him talking about, well, me. Or at least, I can find out a few things....
"Okay, I'm thinking of mum." I split the pack, the two of diamonds. He thinks for a moment, and into the silence hear Chikorita snort quietly. She's falling asleep.
"Well, it's the way her eyes sparkle whenever I see her, like jewels." Well, I wish he'd said my name, but I know he's taking this seriously. And I'm glad.
"Well, it's my turn again." I hand him the cards, and glance around the room. The glance takes in four other silent figures, well, except for Chikorita starting to snore. This is what I'd wanted.
"Okay, so I'm thinking of...."
It's now really quite dark, and the atmosphere has closed in too. Hazel still shows no sign of awakening, and the Pokemon are all snoring away happily. Now, it just seems to be myself and Misty in the dim light of a solitary lamp, sat close on the third bed. In a little world of our own. I shuffle the cards briefly, then hold them out for Misty to take. "Okay, I'm thinking of Brock." She cuts the pack, and looks down.
"Six of clubs." I grin, it couldn't have been much more suitable.
"It reminds me of the number of times you had to hit him with your mallet every day, to stop him drooling over someone." We both chuckle quietly at the thought. Then I feel a pang of sorrow. "He would have been snoring away right now, a year ago. I miss him, he may have acted like a dope at times, but he was as good a friend as you could ever find. And he still is." Misty's eyes daze with recollection.
"Yeah, Brock was wonderful. He'll make a good husband for Suzy, as long as he curbs his libido." We both just sit silently for a while, recalling every time he'd made an idiot of himself around a girl, or cooked something really good out of nothing at all. Eventually, Misty shakes herself out of the memory. "Ah, my turn." She hands the cards to me, and thinks for a moment. "Okay, I'm thinking of..Togepi." Oh, this could be sensitive. I cut the deck, and look at the card. Nine of hearts. I look back up to see what Misty will make of it. Her eyes cloud again, but this time out of anguish rather than memory.
"Ninth, that was the date he left me, and that was the day my heart broke over it." She runs her hands through her glowing hair, and I just wait. She's needed to relive this for too long, I hope she can now. "He grew up too fast, he was my baby. I guess I treated him too much like a child's doll, but deep down I wanted to be his mother for ever." She stops speaking, running her fingers through her hair once again, in an unconscious display of regret. On instinct, I reach out and grasp her arm gently, guiding her touch away from her flowing locks, and instead into my gentle grasp. She doesn't look at me, just starts speaking again, now in a voice delicate as finest silk. "I thought I could just let go, that it was like the parting of friends. But it wasn't. It was a bereavement. My baby has gone, Ash. I let him go, just like that, and it's as if he died. He's gone." I reach over to her and draw her in tightly, letting her shed silent tears of grief. I know how keenly I felt when I let one of my friends go like that, but for her Togepi was more than a friend.
"Shhh, Misty, it's okay. Come on, you've locked this away for too long babe, just open the door, I'm here for you." I just let her cry for as long as she needs to, and she buries herself deeply into me, still making not a sound. Eventually, she lifts her face, and looks me in the eye. Her face is red and messy, but at the same time she looks as beautiful as she ever has. We just stay like that for a few moments, before the noise of Cyndaquil snorting and turning over shatters the painting.
*Sniff* She sits back up, wiping at her eyes, until I draw a tissue from my pocket, and hand it to her. She gives me a look of silent gratitude, and dabs the wetness from her face, and quietly blows her nose. "Okay, it's your turn." I hand her the cards, surprised.
"Are you sure you want to keep playing?" I ask, studying her carefully. She nods definitely in reply.
"I needed that. But I'm alright, I've calmed down now, so are you going to disappoint me or are you in?" I nod, and think for a moment.
"Okay, I'm thinking of Hazel." I can almost see Misty bite her lip, but she just cuts the deck. Three of clubs. Difficult. I think for a few seconds, searching for something, anything.
"Well? You could always make another choice and we'll do it again..." She's not keen on the subject, as I expected. But no, I have a little thought hatching, I'm just trying to work out how to put it...
"It's like she's being beaten by her past, her present and her future. She holds back her history, she holds little hope for her future, and she holds out to anyone in the present. But I love her anyway, I just want her to let me in." I'm too lost in my musings to notice Misty's face pale, or Hazel's eyes flicker open. By the time I've sunk back into reality, Misty is plucking idly at the edge of the card, and Hazel's eyes are shut again, although she's listening with every ounce of will her groggy mind can muster.
"So, shall I have one last turn, and then call it a night?" She hands the cards to me without waiting for response, and looks out of the window into the starlit night sky, thumbs pressed together in thought. "Okay, I'm thinking of...the future. Yours and mine." Smiling at her choice I just shuffle once, and cut the pack. There, staring back at me, is....
"The Joker. I guess that means we can't leave anything to chance...." I mutter to myself. Looking back to Misty, she almost looks aghast.
"Well, I suppose that we'll have some misfortune, some mystery, and some laughter, but fate could decide for us..." Her face drops to something almost submissive. "I guess we'll have to wait and see. Well, good night Ash." With that, she slides off the bed, lifts the covers, and then slips beneath them quietly. Puzzled, at her abruptness, I move over to the middle bed and, careful not to disturb the Pokemon, get in. No-one makes a sound as I turn off the light, and then I just lay in the cloying darkness, just wondering what the last card meant.
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Well, I guess that poses a few questions. And I'd like to see who you think the diary writer is. If you review, perhaps you could say who. Alternatively, answers on a postcard to....
Uh, maybe not. Well, guess I'll see you soon!
Dan.
Anyhow, a few thank-yous to go out as per usual - Cultnirvana, you're a miracle. Ideas, checks, suggestions, discussions.... without you this probably would still be on the drawing board. And Heironeous, huge thanks for your impressions, beta-reading and spotting enough spelling mistakes to write a whole new dictionary with. Also, Light Sneasel, Dragoness, Sailor- Knight Shadowstar, Fan-girl and the Puppet-Killer, your reviews really do make me happy. Big hugs and thanks from me! I had the idea of asking for a certian amount of reviews before continuation like some other authors do, but I want to keep writing, and knowing my luck I wouldn't get what I was demanding. Ah well.
Okay, enough ranting, time to get on with it.
Where The River Flows - Chapter III
6.30AM - We talked and talked last night. But still, the words I long for do not come. I've tried everything, listening to my favourite music on my CD player, reading my favourite childhood book, one I still carry with me to make me smile and remember long past times. No smile will come now. I can find little to look forward to, little to look back on. Being torn in two directions, trapped between the devil and the deep blue sea. I'm in limbo, hung in purgatory and unable to move. There are two ways out, to face the devil down and risk my soul, or to wade out into the sea and disappear. I've always been tempted by the devil, but I've always loved the ocean.
The wood-effect door slams violently behind me, courtesy of my furious shove. For a moment I stand stock still in the middle of the floor, being stared at in shock by the three Pokemon I'd followed into the room, frozen bar for my fingers which clench and straighten in rhythm with the waves of anger lapping through me. I cast eyes around for something to vent it on, anything will do. A window to smash, a pillow to pound, anything. To think that she could say such things to me. And to think that he could take her side! Don't the years between us matter? Don't I matter? Not as much as her, obviously. Perhaps it's because I'm older, more mature, he thinks I can look after myself. Maybe that shows the amount he cares for me is less than how much I care for him, or maybe he's beginning to listen to, and believe her little taunts. But it's just not fair!
"It's not fair!" I find my mouth screaming, with fearful venom, before I fling myself onto the middle of the three beds in the room, slamming my head into the peach pillow. I just stay there, face burrowed, brooding in the darkness.
("Are you crying?") Chikorita's cautious yet sympathetic tone doesn't lighten the clouds circling my head, in fact a few begin to rumble with unspent thunder. I don't bother doing her the honour of lifting my head to reply.
"No. Go away." Simple. No pretences.
("Where? This is the room for all of us, you go away.") Pikachu answers, frustration harsh in her voice. I let my malice simmer for a moment. It's not like me to be cruel, but I really can't help myself right now.
"Why don't you go stick your head down the toilet and flush it?" Silence. Then Pikachu's voice comes through again, right next to my ear.
("Why don't you repeat that?") This time it's a gentle purr, like the cat with the mouse at it's mercy. Well I'm not going to be her mouse.
"Okay, in case you're deaf as well as stupid, I said : Why don't you go stick your..." Cyndaquil breaks in, cool as ice.
("Enough, both of you.") I ignore him.
"...Head down the toilet and flush it?" I snigger quietly to myself in the pillow, trying to ward off the darkness slowly creeping up inside me, yet it's unstoppable as witholding the lengthening dusk. Depression, uncertainty, angst, anger, all burning a trail marked by the incessant bickering I hate with unholy passion, yet can't ignore.
("Don't start Misty. Just don't. Please!") Chikorita almost begs, I can almost hear the tears forming in her voice. She's always been upset by people fighting, and Ash told me he had to go and calm her down a few days back. My guilt deepens still further, but my pride, god damn it, refuses to back down.
"So what if I get annoyed? I think I'm allowed!" I finally pull my face from the pillow, eyes flashing with fury. "Did you hear what she said to me?! And I should accept it? Like fuck!" Chikorita's red eyes grow hazy, and she hops off the bed, trying to get away from my stare.
("It's not like you were blameless!") Pikachu hisses, before jumping down herself after Chikorita. What?
("You did go too far, Misty.") Cyndaquil muses, more to himself than to me. Bitterness and regret begin to spread through me, like the poison spreading through Sleeping Beauty the moment she pricked her finger.
"What do you mean?" I don't know if it's curiosity, or fatalism, but I want to hear the criticism. It's like I'm almost going to revel in it.
("She made a little joke about you, and you told her she had a mouth like a draughtsboard, and told her she had nothing to live for! To her, you might seem fat, just since she's so small.") He's right, I could appear overweight to her, she's even thinner than I used to be. Perhaps that's why Ash chose to go with her, he likes to see that part of me in her. The little Misty of years ago, the one he first knew.
"I can't believe Ash would choose her over me though! I mean, he's only known her five days, and she was horrible to me in the first place." Petty, yes, hypocritical maybe, but I'm being honest. That hurt, Ash telling me to wait for him. I thought that we were out here for the both of us, that we weren't only working for my future, but for......us. Our future. Unwritten, unmentioned, but I thought unquestionable. And the whole time I was working towards my future, and even now, I'm being held back by the other side of the coin, the thing I would lose if I were to become a nurse.
("If for some reason he felt Hazel needed his attention first, he had a good reason. He would never neglect you Misty, about that I'm utterly certain.") I'd love to believe Cyndaquil's dulcent tone. But something echoes time and time again in my head, that he still chose her over me....
("Come on Misty, you have to let Hazel be who she is. She's rough around the edges, but rise above it. You'll get on okay if you give it time.") Pikachu climbs back up on to the bed, giving me an imploring look. Before any more can be said, there is a knock on the door. Everyone on the bed looks at everyone else, hoping someone else is first to move to answer it. Then, the door opens anyway. Chikorita steps back from it, having gone to open it herself. Ash is first in, careful neutrality sculpted in his face. Hazel follows hesitantly, looking nervous.
"Hazel, the shower is through there, okay?" He points off to a door on his left, just a few feet into the room from the entrance. She nods mutely. "And here, take my bag, there should be a towel in there, but if there isn't, then use one from my bag." He hands his bag to her, and she disappears through the door. It shuts, and there is the click of a lock. He looks me in the eye, with a brief smile. "Someone forgot to tell me the room number, so I'm a little late." He moves over to the bed and places himself down on the end of it, still looking at me. "Are you okay Misty?" I want to tell him some sort of story which explains how I feel, but something else has taken control of my voice.
"So, have you got time for me now?" I ask in a dry, cutting tone.
"Misty, please don't be like this." His reply is apologetic, but I want more.
"I thought I was your best friend. But you go and brush me off anyway." I feel a strange mix of pleasure and self-disgust as his expression turns to one of pain.
"It wasn't like that, she needed help. I know you're strong enough to cope for a few minutes..." I interrupt, riding on the crest of a wave.
"Yeah, right. Misty's a trooper, she'll survive, she'll wait in line." I know it's horrible, but I'm being fuelled by something different right now. Jealousy. I can see Ash's hazel eyes soften at that last comment, and in a way I'm relieved that I've hurt him. At least it shows he cares.
"Come on, listen to me. Hazel - " That name again. I don't know if it's the name itself, or the fact it's coming from Ash's mouth that infuriates me so.
"Hazel this, Hazel that. Nice to see you've found a love in your life Ash. The little sister you've never had, or the girl you've never been able to get?" The change in his eyes is impossible to justify by description. They've gone from soft as down to solid as marble in a heartbeat.
"I never thought you'd sink so low. I'm going out, see you later." He gets up, and moves quickly out of the door, and Chikorita follows him through before it shuts with a definite thud. I just roll over and stare at the ceiling for a moment, which is becoming blurred with the beginnings of tears in my eyes. I'm a fool, why did I say that? I make a promise to myself at that moment, I'm going to do whatever I have to just to be what he wants me to be. Whether it is look like Hazel, sing like an angel, never say another crossed word, I'm going to do it. Both for Ash, and to prove to myself I'm better for him than Hazel will ever be.
I found when I got into the bathroom that the shower was an attachment to a bath, fitted out in tasteful peach, like pretty much the rest of the room. So, I've been floating in it for about an hour now, just enjoying the novelty of the feeling, while reading a book I found in Ash's bag. I never had a bath at home. The nearest I could get to it was a swim in my favourite place, the Cerulean Sea. I shake off any temptation to daydream about Cerulean, and concentrate on the book. It's a good one, called "The BFG" by Roald Dahl. It seems a bit young for Ash, but it was in there. He'd wrapped it in a see-through plastic cover to keep it from getting damaged easily, which is a good thing since it'd be soaked by my wet, wrinkly fingers otherwise. His diary also fell out of his bag when I went looking for a towel, and tempting as it was to look at it, I held back. I also found some things which I wish I could see on him, but that's another story, and a few more things of interest. I know I shouldn't pry, but it's something which is natural to me. Ah, stop dreaming, and keep reading the book! My eyes do, but my drowsy mind still wanders. Wanders to thoughts about who left an hour ago, and why. To where my friend, no, ex-friend is, what he's doing now. And to what is happening now, back where I used to live. I wonder if they have any idea where I am? Probably not, this is not the way a beginner often comes, because of rough terrain and dangerous wildlife. And can I stop thinking about that!
I toss the book over the side, and, after closing my eyes, sink gratefully into the lukewarm water fully. It's been a long time since I had a proper wash of any sort, not since my second day out. I learnt then that water in the mountains is cold, and also that I hadn't packed towels. It took me half an hour to dry off, and half an hour standing in the nude in the middle of nowhere is not an experience I want to have again. It's one reason I didn't want to go swimming with them, I could've found a way around the swimsuit problem somehow, but when it came to drying off they would have been even more suspicious. I mean who goes out into the wilderness and doesn't bring a towel? I haven't even got enough clothes to dry myself off with a spare set. Well, tomorrow I'm going to make up for lost time and go on a shopping spree. If that's possible in this poxy little village. Slowly I float back up to the surface of the bath, and set about rubbing in yet more of the complementary shampoo to my already well washed scalp. I'm going to need to stock up on toiletries too, and on make- up. I shouldn't need to use so much of that now, it has been more than a week since I left, almost ten days. My wandering gaze catches a little circular mirror on a silver wire stand at the other end of the bath, and I reach over, picking it up. I wipe the condensation off it with the back of my hand, and examine myself critically. My hazel eyes peer back from beneath a wild mop of frothy hair, out of a flushed pink face. I was named Hazel because I had a lot of unusually brown hair when I was born, and my Hazel eyes just added to the effect. It's nice too see them only Hazel again...
"Hazel, for the last time, could you hurry up in there?" Misty's voice breaks the reflective silence.
"What do you mean for the last time?" She hasn't called me before....Unless it was when my head was under the water.
"I mean I've called you several times, and I wish you'd start listening." She grumbles, sounding a little desperate. I weigh up whether to feign ignorance, or make her spell out why she wants to get in here. I think the second choice seems fun.
"Why?" I load up innocence in my voice, and wait for the reply.
"Why do you think?!" The urgent reply. I smile to myself, this could be fun.
"Uh, because you want a bath? Your hair needs washing?"
"Uh, no!" Then silence. Hmm, what should I say next?
"Do I get another guess?" I bite back a giggle, trying to imagine the look on her face.
"I need to go to the toilet. Badly!" Misty bites the bullet. Shame, I was enjoying the teasing. I eye the tap and shower attachment. Ah.
"Well, give me a second, I need to rinse out my hair." A little snigger slips out as I turn on the shower hose, sending the noise of flowing, splashing water throughout the room. I can just imagine Misty trying her damndest not to listen. To add to my own enjoyment, I start singing to myself as I rinse the suds out. I know I'm cruel, but sometimes I can't help but enjoy it. And in my opinion, she deserves everything she's getting from me, for a lot of things. It hasn't crossed my mind yet, though, that she might have no idea why.
"Hazel, in ten seconds I'm going to have Cyndaquil burn the blasted door down, if you don't open it!" There's a tremor in her voice now. The thought even passes that I should push her to see what she does, but enough is enough for now. I clamber out of the bath, and pick up the two towels I'd pulled out of Ash's bag, before wrapping them tightly around my chest and waist. Oh, I forgot to turn the shower off, how thoughtless of me.heh heh. My inner laughter is stopped short when I put one wet foot onto the plastic- covered book, which, thanks to my enthusiasm in the bath, is on a wet tile floor. My feet travel into view a split-second before the back of my head hits the tiles. My sight lands on the ceiling, which is floating around, moving in and out of focus.
"Hazel, open the door! Now!" Misty bangs the door, hysteria edging into her tone. It brings me around just enough to moan something.
"Misty, help..help me..please.." The world grows yet more hazy, and I let myself drift in this new feeling, like my senses have been enveloped by cotton wool. I sense movement, and vaguely see Misty heading for the toilet before she sees me, and she stops to peer down. She seems to call out to me, but try as I might, I can't reply. She then looks up and says something to someone else, before disappearing out of view towards the toilet, and I hear her sit down with a relieved sigh. Another shape swims into view, something large and blue. I think I've seen a picture of one before.a L- La.Lapras? Something adds up in the thickening mist, she must have used Lapras to knock the door open. I think I hear Misty flush the toilet before she comes back into my sight, closer this time, seemingly staring into me. The mist lining my senses has thickened to a fog, and just keeps condensing, darkening further to something smokey, as someone picks me up. I can't be sure who, but I can't summon the will to find out, as consciousness fades with the speed and finality of a landslide to nothingness.
I sit next to Ash, looking around at an unfamiliar scene. There are few places to go in a town small as this, so Ash decided to go into a pub, and have some lemonade while cooling off. It's not a place I'm familiar with, since neither Ash or Misty are old enough to drink yet, but we got served on the proviso that he's drinking soft drinks and that the landlord won a tidy sum on my us winning the last championship. It took about ten impatient customers to stop the old guy talking to him ceaselessly. Now we've chosen a nice quiet corner, and I'm contentedly sipping my drink of lemonade and munching on a few dry-roasted peanuts. The mood is nice, the wooden floor and oak-effect rafters creating warmth in the surroundings, the walls almost papered with pictures of old barns, horses and fields. The only down side is the haze of cigarette smoke hanging ghostily in the air and flooding my sense of smell, combined with the dry tint of hops and whisky fumes creating a still deeper and more intoxicating scent. Ash idly strokes my leaf, eyes fixed in the middle distance, barely touching his drink. I want to know what's on his mind.
("Ash, are you awake?") I nudge him gently, waiting for a response. For a second there is none, then he sighs quietly, reaches for his drink and takes a mouthful.
"Yeah." He lifts his other hand off my head, and it moves to his chin, now looking deep in thought.
("Are you going to tell me what you're thinking, or do I have to guess?") I ask, leaning up to take a suck on the length of straws which have been piped together to allow me sup my drink easily.
"I think you could probably guess." Is the absent-minded response.
("Okay, about Misty and Hazel?") He takes another mouthful of his drink, still gazing into space.
"Yeah."
("Come on, give me more than that.") I cajole, moving to rub cat-like against his leg. It works it's usual magic, he turns his gaze down to me.
"Well you know already. Misty is jealous of Hazel whenever she has my attention and gets pissed that I am looking after her, Hazel is jealous that Misty has always taken first place in my affections, and is angry at her for some other reasons. What's obvious to me now is that there's more to Hazel than meets the eye. I've got a lot of little bits and pieces which don't add up, but I'd rather keep them to myself." I give him my best doe- eyed stare, and he gives a short chuckle. "Okay, if you promise to keep them to quiet. Don't go hurling accusations, okay?"
("Would I ever?") I promise, with heartfelt certainty. He gives me a final appraising look, before nodding.
"Well, for one, she hasn't got any towels. I gave her mine, but acted like I didn't notice she had none. When she went digging through her bag for something the other day, she threw underwear and clothes everywhere, almost emptied the bag, but didn't pull out so much as a tea-towel. Her food rations were almost all sweets and crisps, junk food, no tins, meat or veg. She hadn't prepared at all, like she left without a thought. Two, the clothes, pants and everything she'd strewn all over the place were all cheap, some of them brand new, like they'd been worn once, others well darned, nothing in between. But her trainers are really, really expensive, top of the range. Three, she dislikes Misty for more reasons than just jealousy. I'm getting towards why, but I don't know for sure yet." His brow creases with worry for a moment. "The other thing is a little more unusual." I study his expression, he really is worried. I wonder why?
("What could be so bad Ash? She seems harmless.") He turns so he can give me his full attention, giving my back a rub.
"It's just something which makes me suspicious." He thinks for another moment, then he shrugs. "I may well be over-reacting. It's probably just a beginners mistake after all. But then again, she knew Cyndaquil aren't common around here, and that's not something a total novice would know." I wait patiently as he sorts the words he's going to say out in his head. ".You know that time when we went swimming, Hazel sent out her Charmander? Well, Cyndaquil went to talk with it, and later told me that he was really nice, although he wasn't really sure what he was doing there."
("So?") I don't quite know what he's getting at. He seems like he's going to make his point, but he looks up at the clock, and shakes his head.
"Ah, I'm sure it's nothing. But we'd better be getting back, I think I need to make up with Misty. I don't like letting things lie." He drains the last of his glass, before getting up slowly. "I get so guilty sometimes, I feel like I should be paying more attention to her. Maybe it just seems like I'm ignoring her because we've been alone for so long, we're both used to being the centre of each other's attention. But I'm just trying to be fair. Hazel is becoming like a little sister to me, I enjoy helping her along the best I can. It makes me feel like I'm being useful." He stands and pauses to pet me for a moment, before continuing in a reflective tone. "And something Misty said was sort of true, I've always wanted a little sister, someone I could love without the worries of further complications like the ones always implied between a boy and a girl. Hazel fell into my life now, and at the exact time it seemed Misty's time with me is limited, as she may move into college and get fixed down for a while. I'm not quite ready to settle down myself, I've got so much more to do." He finishes with little more than a whisper, regret and worry lain deep within it.
("Never thought you'd have woman troubles then? And while we're on the subject, you'd better not forget about me.") I chuckle quietly and get up too, savouring both his touch and the taste of the last of the peanuts.
"When would I ever forget about you?" He scoops me up into his arms and gives me a sunny grin.
("Just making sure. Now, you be sure to tell me what you were thinking about later, okay?") He nods, and makes a move for the door with me still in his arms. It's finally getting dark outside, and there is a slight edge to the air, a freshness which cools rather than chills, but still reminds what could be in a few months. On our way into the pub we spotted a fish and chip shop/chinese take-away just down the street, so we head for it to pick up some supper. Hopefully all will be calm by the time we get back.
I look over the still form on the bed, eyes closed and body limp, with a great deal of clashing emotion. Hazel seems okay, she's breathing and her pulse is fine, there's no bleeding and I've felt around her head gently and all seems okay, she's probably just concussed. Both Ash and myself did a first-aid course a while ago, for safety while travelling, and I've been doing still more on it for my studies. But I just wish she would come around to prove the fact to myself, I won't believe my diagnosis until it is proven either way. I don't know what happened to her, but it looks like she slipped by the bath. If it wasn't for the fact I'd got Lapras to shove the door open in a desperate attempt to get to the toilet before I wet myself, she might have been there for a while without anyone knowing. On one hand I might be expected to revel in her misfortune, but I'm not heartless. No matter what we said to each other over the last few days, I never wanted something like this to happen, if for no other reason than I don't like people getting hurt. Ash always said (increasingly jokily) that he used to be scared of me, but as I've grown up my threats have become more and more obviously empty. I'm stolen from my thoughts by the entry of Pikachu and Cyndaquil through the ajar door, after their hunt for the resident nurse.
("Nope, she's not in. Probably got a hot date or something.") Pikachu chirps, hopping up to the bed. For a moment we both study Hazel for some sort of flicker of life, but nope, not yet.
("Oh god, I'm hungry.") Cyndaquil moans, slumping down in a pose of pitiful desparation. Despite myself, I smile.
"That makes two of us. But I can't leave, and it's no good you trying to get food, no-one would know what you are on about." I sigh, feeling my stomach rumble. "I guess we'll have to use the last of our tins, and wait until tomorrow morning."
"Well if you really must, I could always eat all this myself." I whirl around to see Ash stroll in, a heavy plastic bag in each hand, the contents of which my nose has already told me. I slide on a shy smile, one he returns in kind until he sets eyes on Hazel. "What's wrong with her?" I shake my head.
"She slipped up on the floor of the bathroom and banged her head. I checked her, she should be okay." His eyes soften with worry, while mine probably harden in response. Whether she's unconscious or awake, I still feel jealous whenever Ash lavishes attention on her.
"Mind if I take a look?" I shrug my shoulders in response.
"Only if I can have something to eat."
("Me too!") Cyndaquil asks. Ash nods in response, not noticing that Pikachu and Chikorita have already torn open one of the bags of chips and are devouring them with the speed that rain flows down a drainpipe.
"Go ahead. There's fried rice there for you Misty, and some hot sauce too Cyndaquil. Enjoy." Fried rice? Nice. I rustle through the bags until I find a silver tray and a plastic fork, and I grab them before sitting on the middle bed and tearing into it. I've finished the whole lot and cleaned out the corners with my tongue before I even look up. Cyndaquil and Chikorita have both got the hiccups, due to seemingly not bothering to chew their food, and Pikachu is smothering each individual chip in ketchup. Well, I say smothering, drowning is more like it. I pick up an un-opened bag of chips and tuck into them happily, until my sight traces it's way up the bed next to me. Hazel lain unmoving, with Ash's eyes of the same colour looking at her with touching concern. Well, it would be touching to me if it didn't make me feel hollow, hollow as a bubble. I set down the rest of my supper, losing my appetite in the time it takes to turn on a light.
"Uhh." Hazel's eyes flicker, and she takes a deep breath.
My eyes slam open, searching wildly. That smell, not that smell, not this, please.no, not again.
I look up from eating my ketchup to see Hazel stare around like a startled fawn, before she just lets out a tiny squeak. In the blink of an eye she's sat up against the headboard, knees drawn to her chin, hugging the towels to her closely.
"No! Leave me alone! It's not my fault!" A moment of silence as everyone looks at everyone else, each asking the same question. What?
"Hazel, calm down." She still seems delirious, Ash's words have no effect on her. She sniffs the air deeply, and her terror seems to multiply still further, whipping up into a malestrom of confusion and panic.
"No, stay away! I can smell where you've been! You're going to do it again! What did I do? I'm sorry!" She cries, holding her arms out in front of her, but not as if she's reaching for something, more that she's pushing something away, looking to parry not accept.
"Hazel!" Ash moves in quickly and puts his arms around her, hugging her close while whispering inaudible words into her ear. Her arms flail wildly against his back, but they slow almost instantly.
"A-ash?" Barely more than a whimper, a scared child calling from a nightmare. Hazel's eyes seem to focus for a moment before her arms tighten around Ash, and she buries herself into his chest, sobbing with shuddering intensity.
("What's wrong?") I ask, feelings tinged by worry at the sheer power of her distress. Ash just gestures to me to wait for a moment as he rocks her slowly, still cooing in her ear. Slowly, the sobbing slows to nothing and she falls asleep, the only clue to her outburst a pink tinge to her face and the damp trails left by tears. Ash tenderly lays her head back down onto the pillow, and takes off her towels which had become loose and skewed when she'd reacted to severely. He carefully pulls the blankets down the bed, and then pulls them back up over her, right up to her chin, before brushing a few stray hairs away from her eyes.
"Ash, what do you think that was all about?" Misty's puzzled question echoes through the sudden silence. He just looks tenderly down at Hazel for a few moments, before shaking his head.
"I don't know for certain, but I've got a good idea.."
I wish I hadn't eaten all that at once, and I wish I hadn't washed it all down with hot sauce, that's pushing it even for me. I guess I'm having my punishment now, lain flat on my back on the bed nearest the window, staring out into the darkness and trying to count the stars in a vain attempt to take my mind off it. Misty has already excused herself and disappeared off into the bathroom. I think she's running a bath of her own, although I wouldn't be surprised if she's throwing up, the rate she ate her supper with. I'm trying not to listen and find out since my stomach needs little persuasion to follow suit right now. Pikachu is fast asleep, spreadagled on the pillow. Chikorita is trying, like me, to avoid losing the food we'd stuffed down our throats an hour ago. Her face is a much darker green than usual. Ash is still keeping a careful eye on Hazel, who is once again utterly comatose. The first thing he did after the outburst was change clothes and wash his face and hands, and clean his teeth. I have no idea why. But he's got some reason, I'm sure.
("I never want to see a chip again...") Chikorita moans, wringing her eyes shut tightly and rolling onto her other side.
"It's your own fault, I'm afraid. You barely left any for me." Ash chides her gently, with a smile.
("Guilty as charged.") I add, before resolving to try and keep my mouth shut.
"I hope Misty is okay in there. She's been almost an hour." He glances up towards the bathroom, playing absently with his fingernails.
("That's not unusual for her.") Chikorita murmurs dozily.
"Yeah, but normally she makes more noise than a brass band, singing badly and splashing about. I haven't heard a peep out of her." His sight flicks back to Hazel, then up to the bathroom again, and I can see him agonising silently. He doesn't want to leave her, but he needs to check up on Misty, he feels guilty that he hasn't done so already. I guess I'll break my resolution.
("You go and knock on the door, I'll be here in case Hazel wakes up.") Nausea floods into my head, but I fight it down. He sends me a silent look of thanks, before getting up, and knocking on the bathroom door. For a moment there is no reply.
"Misty, you all right in there?" Another few seconds of worrying silence.
"Uh, yeah, I'm fine." Her voice sounds a little rough.
"Are you sure?" He replies, in a tone which just screams that he isn't.
"Yeah, I'm almost done in the bath, Won't be long." The answer, a little stronger this time.
"Well, okay." Ash just stares at the door for a few moments, knowing full well that he could go in and check if he really wanted to, since the door, after earlier events, is only being held shut by Misty's rucksack propped against it on the inside. But he just sighs and moves back over to us.
("Why didn't you check?") Chikorita asks quietly, as I crawl over to where he's sat back down, on the edge of the middle bed.
"Because it would have been intruding. I wouldn't want someone coming in to see if I was in the bath."
("But you took Hazel's towels off...") A touch of jealousy there, Chikorita? Well, looks like Ash is going to have to fight ladies off with a stick at this rate.
"I couldn't leave her in that state wrapped in damp towels, she could've caught a chill on top of whatever she's done to herself. I did what was best for her." He seems a little anxious though, as he says it. Looking back, it might seem like a rash thing to do. If Hazel were to over-react, Ash could be in big trouble. But I have a sneaking suspicion she won't.
("Ash, would you tell me what it was you were going to earlier?") What was that? I think Ash isn't best pleased, since he throws Chikorita a "You never know when to keep quiet..." look.
("What's this?") I nudge, trying to get him to explain. He gets up with a gentle sigh, leans over Hazel carefully, and begins speaking whilst checking her for response.
"Cyndaquil, you said you talked to Hazel's Charmander?"
("Yes, he seems nice, if timid.") He nods to himself almost as much as us at my answer. Something seems to catch his eye, and he moves closer to Hazel's face.
"And what did Hazel call him when she first released him?" ....Oh.
("She called him - Charlotte?!") I think Chikorita twigs at the same time as I do. She didn't know what sex her starter Pokemon was.
("But you said she knew that Cyndaquil were rare in the mountains, and that it's not something a beginner would know.") Chikorita is chewing things over, and she isn't liking the taste. And neither do I.
("Also, he wasn't really sure what he was doing there.") I add, and we all pause for a moment. I think we're all thinking the same thing, although none of us wish to voice it. Maybe, just maybe he isn't hers....So who was he with? Did she get him in a trade, or did she take him from someone else? But that just doesn't feel right, if the Charmander had been with someone else he would've mentioned it to me.
("I'm officially confused. And suspicious.") Chikorita says quietly, gazing silently at the far wall, still thinking. Then Ash lets out a thoughtful noise.
"This is odd." He peers in closer to Hazel's face, and runs a gentle finger over a few places. Did Misty say Hazel hit her face?" I think for a second, then shake my head.
("No, she slipped up and hit the back of her head.")
"Hmmm, well they couldn't be from today then, besides, they're almost invisible." What are "they"?
("Whatcha on about?") Chikorita asks, coming around to the present.
"She's got marks on her face, like very old scrapes. And a few shades where there might have been bruises. If I hadn't been helping Misty with her studies, I wouldn't have noticed them, but I know what to look for. The scratch she got from that holly bush when she met us is almost gone, but these are a bit older. I wonder how she got them." How indeed?
("We'll add it to the list of things to ask her once she gets up. Which is too long already in my opinion.") I mutter dryly, to general agreement.
("So, what to do now?") Chikorita shrugs. Misty is still in the bathroom, it's too late to be going anywhere, but a little too early to sleep just yet. And the television is out, since we're so far out in the mountains that our viewing choice consists of the twenty-four hour static channels, about five of them, and the weather channel. And I can get fed up of watching static in pretty short order.
"Well, I've got some cards here, if you're up for a bit of Poker. Aces high, jokers are wild?" Ash pulls out of a bag a pack of very battered cards with the picture of a Horsea on the back. In fact battered would be doing them a disservice. Mutilated would fit better.
("Yeah, I'll go for that.") I agree, knowing I'm going to get some more spending money now. No-one else has noticed that each card has different folds, notches, or a particularly dog-eared corner, so I don't need to see the faces. And they still wonder why I always clean up.
I guess it's time I came out of here, I think they're starting to get worried. Well, if they're not too busy petting I-know-who. I pace the length of the bathroom for about the seven hundred and fifty-sixth time in the last hour and a half, fingers working at the hem of my pink pyjama top. I was in the bath briefly, for about half a second before it became very apparent that Hazel had used the last of the hot water. I got goosepimples on my goosepimples when I plunged just one toe into the frigid water. The boiler will probably be hot again by now, but I've lost interest. I'm just thinking. Thinking about nothing in particular. I guess Hazel's accident has made me consider about what I really think about her. I have always had problems with her, she's been like a vicious cat, snarling, spitting, scratching at me. But I get the feeling the cat has been put in a bag and thrown into a lake by someone in the past, and has somehow crawled out, drying itself off but destined to forever carry the watermark on her heart. Yet I still don't know exactly what. I hate to admit it, but it's her relationship with Ash which really galls me. He's amazingly like a father towards her, accepts her snarling with a pinch of salt. But whenever he's busy with her, I miss the time he would otherwise have been sharing with me. And Ash.I think I'm finally admitting it to myself, my feelings for him have developed to something nearing genuine love. The way he's always looked out for others, strangers, Hazel, his Pokemon, me. It makes me think he'll be a great father to someone in the future. And I just want it to be my child that has him as a father. But then again, it feels like I'm being replaced. Perhaps, just perhaps, he loved me more as who I was, not who I am. I pick up the mirror, and look into it. Scouring my face to try and pin down exactly what it is I need to change in it that would make him notice. I cannot see any. My eyes still aqua, my hair red, nose small, mouth expressive. The rest of me, I've grown, but..I think of the food I ate just a while ago. Rice guzzled like I was a starving gannet. Fried chips scoffed without giving time for a breath. Regret settles like a lead blanket across my shoulders, as I drop a hand to my still full abdomen. I think I need to go on a diet, starting tomorrow. A sigh whisps from between my lips, and I put the mirror back at the end of the bath. Well, time to go to bed. I put a hand on the door handle, think for a moment, then instead pick up the bag I'd been using it to prop it closed, and it swings open on it's own.
"Three of a kind, eights."
("Bugger, a two pair, sixes and sevens.")
("Read it and weep guys, full house. Tens and fives.") Cyndaquil sounds triumphant, Chikorita groans like it's something she's heard too many times. I poke my head around the door to see the three of them sat on the middle bed, Ash lain full length with his feet dangling off the end of the bed and his head near the top end putting down his hand with a rueful smile, Chikorita studying the quilt miserably and fiddling with just a few coins, and Cyndaquil almost obscured by a huge mound of change. Looks like the usual result is on the cards. Heh, nice pun, even if I say so myself.
"Everyone in for another round?" Ash asks, shuffling the pack with casino- dealer speed.
("This could well be my last.") Chikorita grumbles, tossing in another few coins.
("Do you need to ask?") Cyndaquil throws in his enterance bet.
"And deal me in too." I put in quietly, enjoying the three pairs of eyes flicking to me, especially the brown ones with relief plainly shining from them.
("And your bet?") Chikorita nudges verbally, possibly to try and break the eye contact between us. I reach into my bag, pull out a handful of coins, and rifle through them.
"How much to buy in?"
("Twenty pence, two rounds, jokers are wild.") I find a silver coin, and flip it into the kitty. Ash deals the cards with great speed, and I pick mine up. Mmmm, not bad.
"So, what have you been doing?" Ash asks idly, picking up his own hand.
"Relaxing."
("In the bath?") Chikorita asks, disappointment scrawled over her face as soon as she sets eyes on what she's been dealt. She's never been good at bluffing.
"Yeah." Ash gives me a puzzled look.
"Why aren't your fingers crinkled up then?" True, they look perfectly normal, but not for someone who supposedly has spent the last hour submerged in water. Not a wrinkle in sight.
"I've been out of the bath for a while, just reading my book. Hazel took it out of your bag, I think she slipped on it." He seems a bit unsure, but doesn't follow up the point.
("Three please.") Cyndaquil picks up his new cards, expressionless. He could do this for a living, I never know what he's thinking.
("Five.") Chikorita throws the lot in, and gets a whole new set. Her expression now suggests that it wasn't an improvement.
"I'll take two." I put down two cards, picking up the ones Ash flips to me, and hide a smile. Mmmmm, better. "And I'll raise fifty pence." The others all comply.
"Dealer takes three." We all sit in silence for a moment.
("Three please.") Chikorita sets three cards aside, picks up the new ones, takes one look at them. ("And I fold.") She throws her cards in.
("Two.") Cyndaquil looks at what he has, and then looks at myself and Ash carefully.
"One." I look at my new card, and bite back a massive grin. "And I'll raise you three pounds." Cyndaquil shakes his head and throws his cards in. So. I gaze at Ash levelly, he returns it.
"Met." He throws in three gold coins. "Dealer takes two." He picks up his fresh cards, and looks at me again. "And I'll raise five." He unravels a blue five pound note, and tosses it nonchalantly on the pile. I look at my hand again, and back up. Yeah, I'll take him.
"I'm in." I give him a coquettish glance, and throw on a Marilyn Monroe- esque voice. "Show me what ya got, sugar!"
"Only if you let it all hang out too darlin'" He replies, with a gambler style drawl. I slip him a wink, and then we both throw down our cards. And look up, and down again. My hand, two kings, two queens and a joker. Full house. His hand, Two queens, two kings and a joker..I don't know why it's funny, but we both burst into peals of laughter.
("Well, shall we call it a night?") Chikorita motions to the total lack of money on the in front of her.
"Yeah, okay. We could always watch the weather channel to help us get to sleep." I snigger, shuffling over to the bed near the window and flopping down onto it.
"Well, we could check tomorrows forecast, just in case." Ash suggests. I know there's no point really. The weather is easy to predict up here. It's clear tonight, it'll be fine tomorrow.
"Hey Ash, do you fancy playing a little game?" The old thing I used to play as a little girl comes back to me as I mess with the pack. And if I play my cards right....I'm on a roll for puns at the moment.
"Go on."
"Well, it's a sort of a fortune telling game. You say a name of a person, place or something, and I split the pack. Whatever card comes up, you have to explain how it relates to that person. Go on, take the cards, I'll show you." I hand him the cards, feeling like I'm eight again. "So, I'm thinking of....Home. Split the pack." He does, and looks at the card.
"Ten of spades." He looks at me imploringly.
"Uhh, well I guess....I lived there for ten years, and every year it felt like I was digging a deeper hole to get out of." Brutally honest. "Here, you have a go." I hold out my hands for the cards.
"Well, I don't know if I'm going to come up with something that interesting. But sure, I'll have a go." He gives them to me, and inwardly I jump for joy. Maybe, given time tonight, I can get him talking about, well, me. Or at least, I can find out a few things....
"Okay, I'm thinking of mum." I split the pack, the two of diamonds. He thinks for a moment, and into the silence hear Chikorita snort quietly. She's falling asleep.
"Well, it's the way her eyes sparkle whenever I see her, like jewels." Well, I wish he'd said my name, but I know he's taking this seriously. And I'm glad.
"Well, it's my turn again." I hand him the cards, and glance around the room. The glance takes in four other silent figures, well, except for Chikorita starting to snore. This is what I'd wanted.
"Okay, so I'm thinking of...."
It's now really quite dark, and the atmosphere has closed in too. Hazel still shows no sign of awakening, and the Pokemon are all snoring away happily. Now, it just seems to be myself and Misty in the dim light of a solitary lamp, sat close on the third bed. In a little world of our own. I shuffle the cards briefly, then hold them out for Misty to take. "Okay, I'm thinking of Brock." She cuts the pack, and looks down.
"Six of clubs." I grin, it couldn't have been much more suitable.
"It reminds me of the number of times you had to hit him with your mallet every day, to stop him drooling over someone." We both chuckle quietly at the thought. Then I feel a pang of sorrow. "He would have been snoring away right now, a year ago. I miss him, he may have acted like a dope at times, but he was as good a friend as you could ever find. And he still is." Misty's eyes daze with recollection.
"Yeah, Brock was wonderful. He'll make a good husband for Suzy, as long as he curbs his libido." We both just sit silently for a while, recalling every time he'd made an idiot of himself around a girl, or cooked something really good out of nothing at all. Eventually, Misty shakes herself out of the memory. "Ah, my turn." She hands the cards to me, and thinks for a moment. "Okay, I'm thinking of..Togepi." Oh, this could be sensitive. I cut the deck, and look at the card. Nine of hearts. I look back up to see what Misty will make of it. Her eyes cloud again, but this time out of anguish rather than memory.
"Ninth, that was the date he left me, and that was the day my heart broke over it." She runs her hands through her glowing hair, and I just wait. She's needed to relive this for too long, I hope she can now. "He grew up too fast, he was my baby. I guess I treated him too much like a child's doll, but deep down I wanted to be his mother for ever." She stops speaking, running her fingers through her hair once again, in an unconscious display of regret. On instinct, I reach out and grasp her arm gently, guiding her touch away from her flowing locks, and instead into my gentle grasp. She doesn't look at me, just starts speaking again, now in a voice delicate as finest silk. "I thought I could just let go, that it was like the parting of friends. But it wasn't. It was a bereavement. My baby has gone, Ash. I let him go, just like that, and it's as if he died. He's gone." I reach over to her and draw her in tightly, letting her shed silent tears of grief. I know how keenly I felt when I let one of my friends go like that, but for her Togepi was more than a friend.
"Shhh, Misty, it's okay. Come on, you've locked this away for too long babe, just open the door, I'm here for you." I just let her cry for as long as she needs to, and she buries herself deeply into me, still making not a sound. Eventually, she lifts her face, and looks me in the eye. Her face is red and messy, but at the same time she looks as beautiful as she ever has. We just stay like that for a few moments, before the noise of Cyndaquil snorting and turning over shatters the painting.
*Sniff* She sits back up, wiping at her eyes, until I draw a tissue from my pocket, and hand it to her. She gives me a look of silent gratitude, and dabs the wetness from her face, and quietly blows her nose. "Okay, it's your turn." I hand her the cards, surprised.
"Are you sure you want to keep playing?" I ask, studying her carefully. She nods definitely in reply.
"I needed that. But I'm alright, I've calmed down now, so are you going to disappoint me or are you in?" I nod, and think for a moment.
"Okay, I'm thinking of Hazel." I can almost see Misty bite her lip, but she just cuts the deck. Three of clubs. Difficult. I think for a few seconds, searching for something, anything.
"Well? You could always make another choice and we'll do it again..." She's not keen on the subject, as I expected. But no, I have a little thought hatching, I'm just trying to work out how to put it...
"It's like she's being beaten by her past, her present and her future. She holds back her history, she holds little hope for her future, and she holds out to anyone in the present. But I love her anyway, I just want her to let me in." I'm too lost in my musings to notice Misty's face pale, or Hazel's eyes flicker open. By the time I've sunk back into reality, Misty is plucking idly at the edge of the card, and Hazel's eyes are shut again, although she's listening with every ounce of will her groggy mind can muster.
"So, shall I have one last turn, and then call it a night?" She hands the cards to me without waiting for response, and looks out of the window into the starlit night sky, thumbs pressed together in thought. "Okay, I'm thinking of...the future. Yours and mine." Smiling at her choice I just shuffle once, and cut the pack. There, staring back at me, is....
"The Joker. I guess that means we can't leave anything to chance...." I mutter to myself. Looking back to Misty, she almost looks aghast.
"Well, I suppose that we'll have some misfortune, some mystery, and some laughter, but fate could decide for us..." Her face drops to something almost submissive. "I guess we'll have to wait and see. Well, good night Ash." With that, she slides off the bed, lifts the covers, and then slips beneath them quietly. Puzzled, at her abruptness, I move over to the middle bed and, careful not to disturb the Pokemon, get in. No-one makes a sound as I turn off the light, and then I just lay in the cloying darkness, just wondering what the last card meant.
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Well, I guess that poses a few questions. And I'd like to see who you think the diary writer is. If you review, perhaps you could say who. Alternatively, answers on a postcard to....
Uh, maybe not. Well, guess I'll see you soon!
Dan.