Chapter Two – A Real Trainer
"Alright, Bulbasaur, once more. Tackle!"
Bulbasaur spun to face his opponent, a lively wooper. Its trainer was a boy from one of the little villages in the outskirts of the highland forest. He was an impetuous young lad, full dire threats and boasts of power. It wasn't lost on Josh that he was battling a truant schoolboy. Apparently the lad had been waiting in the woodland ready to ambush a passing trainer. Josh watched Bulbasaur charge over the damp mat of conifer needles with a smile. Bulbasaur had grown used to battle in a matter of days and he seemed to like it.
"Tackles won't stop Wooper! You'll be sorry you came across me!" the boy yelled. He hopped excitedly from foot-to-foot. "Wooper, Water Gun!"
"Ignore it, Bulbasaur," Josh said, arms folded.
Wooper hopped up onto a dead log and spat a pressurised stream of water at Bulbasaur. Undaunted, Bulbasaur charged through the spray; with a leap and a battle cry he knocked Wooper from its perch with a flying Tackle. Wooper tumbled off downhill and crashed into a pile of dead needles.
"That's victory, kid," said Josh.
"No it's not! Wooper isn't done yet, he's still going!" the kid shouted back at him.
"Kid, it's not moving. You've lost this battle, let it rest."
"We hadn't lost a battle in weeks till you came along! That pokémon isn't even from Johto! Wooper, return!"
Josh shook his head in disapproval, watching the truant boy run off downhill on the woodland path. He'd been getting that kind of response more often than he'd like these past few days. Some kid would challenge him and refuse to take no for an answer, then find some excuse to blame him for their loss. Bulbasaur was enjoying the exercise, but Josh wondered whether he would have got better practice following the south-eastern road instead.
Bulbasaur loped back up the hill, still full of energy. He rumbled his contentment as Josh rubbed his head and bulb. Josh had always thought his pokémon was special. Bulbasaur was greener than usual for his species, his bulb a rich mossy colour. The irregular olive markings on his face looked a bit like a sunburst exploding across his brow. Time out in the fresh air was working its subtle magic. Bulbasaur had never been an unhealthy pokémon, but the journey was certainly putting some definition on his muscles.
Josh sat himself down on a log, absent-mindedly feeding Bulbasaur nitrogen supplements. The journeying itself wasn't bad, at least, walking in the clean air among trees that had been left to grow as they pleased. Mulberry Town was not a tree-friendly place. Trees were automatically seen as safety hazards, to be crudely pollarded well before old age could rot their wooden hearts.
"But we haven't learnt enough, have we old friend?" he murmured.
"Bulba?"
"These battles are too easy for you. You've had no room to grow. Too easy for me, too …" Josh thought about the past few days, and all the times he and Bulbasaur had battled. They weren't battling trainers, they were battling kids and housewives with the family pokémon. Any serious trainer would still squash them flat.
"Do you remember our battle against Joy a couple of weeks ago? With her ledyba? We could do with more battles like that."
Bulbasaur leapt back and barked indignantly. "Don't give me that look. I know you like to win but the Gym Leader's not going to be using pokémon like that wooper."
Bulbasaur still looked uncertain. Josh heaved a sigh. His pokémon was easily pleased, that was the problem. It was his own fault. Pokémon tended to pick up on the habits of their trainers, and Josh had never been seriously competitive before.
"Come on. It's getting late – we had better get to the next Pokémon Centre before dusk."
Route 32 runs southwards from Violet City, following the sea on the east and skirting the hilly forests to the west. The coastward road is well-maintained but long, passing by fishing villages and travel lodges, but the western side is the route less travelled, splitting into hilly forest paths that connect isolated highland villages. The villagers cultivate small orchards and plantations, powered by their own little solar or wind generators. Through those pine forests Josh walked on, trying to find a path passing north of Union Cave. The sun slid down in the sky, bringing a cold evening just as the forest path gave way to a village lane, bordered on either side by razz berry canes. A middle-aged woman in rough gardener's wear stood gazing pensively at the canes.
"Excuse me?" Josh called. "Whereabouts is the Pokémon Centre?"
"You're a little late. The Centre here closed down ten months ago. The nearest Centre is down at Union Wood now," she replied, still concentrating on the razz berries.
"What? But it's on the map …" Josh said, double-checking his Pokégear.
"I'm afraid news from here takes a while to reach the outside world. Maps tend to be a little out of date."
"Josh pinched the bridge of his nose. With a bit of imagination he could supplement what provisions he had with wild foods from the forest, but there was nothing that could be done about sleeping. "Fantastic. This poses a problem."
The woman turned to look at him for the first time. She had shoulder-length blonde hair and a kind, quizzical expression. "You see, I was hoping to stay at the Pokémon Centre for the night. I have no tent and could have done with using the cafeteria …"
"You shouldn't try and stay out in the woods all night," the woman replied, her face all concern. "You can stay at the house for the night; my husband will make room for you on the sofa."
"Would you do that? I could pay you for the night," Josh said.
"Oh, nonsense! I would not dream of it. You can call me Mary, by the way."
"I'm most grateful for this," said Josh as Mary led him down the lane, winding round to a house tucked away behind a prickly holly hedge. The house was a sprawl of extensions; some quite old, others obviously modern. The front door had a fresh spray of sugar pine fastened to it, opening to reveal a hallway as eclectic in age as the exterior. Mary led him inside, kindly but firmly insisting that he remove his boots. From the end of the hallway came an array of familial, domestic sorts of sounds. A man stepped round into the hallway, drying his hands on a kitchen towel. Tall, with a neat brown moustache, he threw Josh an appraising glance.
"Another one for dinner, Greg," said Mary. "The lad was trying to stay at the old Centre."
Greg gave an approving nod. "Come on through," he said.
The kitchen was scrupulously clean, except where it was populated by Mary's two small daughters. They pestered Josh with questions all the way through a huge dinner despite their mother's admonishments. Josh answered them as best he could, trying not to seem aloof. Greg said little, but his wife couldn't be hospitable enough. Eventually Josh just had to ask the question that had been bothering him all through the meal.
"It's really nice of you to offer me all this, but how is it you have this much to spare?"
"The fridge broke again," one of the girls piped up.
"Mouth closed when you chew, Stephanie," said Greg in his slow voice. "Our solar generator hasn't been working as it should. Some mornings I wake to find the battery dead, and then there's nothing to power the irrigation lines. It's no big problem for an orchard owner, but we've got razz berries. They need their water."
"We've been over the generator a hundred times. There's nothing wrong with it. And it's our electrical power for the house, too. The food needs eating, you feel free," Mary said. Josh sat in thought for a moment. There was something vaguely familiar about the story.
"It happens in the mornings? So you've never found the battery dead halfway through the day?" Josh asked. Greg shook his head wearily. "I've an idea. I'll watch your generator tonight and see what happens. Call it payment for your kindness."
"Oh no, you don't have to pay us, son," Greg replied hastily. "I was going to do the same myself in any case."
"Sir, I insist. At least I can be an extra pair of eyes."
"Well, if I can't change your mind. We'll go out at ten."
It was nearing midnight, and Josh had been half-hidden behind a bush with Greg for nearly two hours. The solar generator lay seven or eight yards in front of them, a concrete shed at the centre of a web of wires. This far away from the cities, the moon cast just enough light to see by. Josh thought he could see shadows moving oddly in the treeline behind the shed. Was it a trick of the dim moonlight? Was it something moving?
Josh glanced back at Greg crouched stock-still beside him. He seemed to have a similar brand of quiet stoicism to his own father. Dad never said very much, at least not with words. No, Dad communicated as much with body language, with its own vast lexicon … except when Josh chose to do things his own way. It didn't matter whether it was about how best to sell his jewellery or whether pokémon training was a good idea – he would incessantly keep trying to cross swords over it. It was suffocating, and frankly one of the main reasons Josh couldn't stand to stay in Mulberry much longer.
The shadows under the trees were still moving oddly, as if trying to convince Josh that they had never moved at all … and then, low whines, drawn-out like stereo feedback, sounded out across the clearing.
"Did you hear that?" he whispered to Greg. Greg nodded slowly, trying to see where it came from. Then, shadows detached themselves from the treeline, gliding into the clearing. One hovered above the shed, silhouetted against the sky. It looked like a sphere with two crescent shapes on either side. "Magnemite!" Josh said in an excited whisper.
"Hey!" Greg roared, scaring Josh out his skin. In an almighty cracking of bush branches he jumped out of their hiding place, torch brandished at a trio of magnemite that were following the wires to the generator shed. They pivoted on the spot in alarm, staring inscrutably at Greg with their wide eyes, unblinking in the light of the torch beam. Then as suddenly as they had arrived, they scattered in different directions.
"You too, laggard!" Greg bellowed. There was one left, still hovering defiantly. Josh jumped up, filled with a strange excitement. He snatched at his belt for Bulbasaur.
"Go Bulbasaur! Time to battle!"
Out popped Bulbasaur in a blaze of light, blinking curiously at the magnemite hovering before him. Magnemite swooped; Bulbasaur leapt at the metallic pokémon without hesitation. The two collided in mid-air, Bulbasaur landing on his feet with a thump. Magnemite hesitated, as if startled.
"Another Tackle, go!" said Josh. He was confident Bulbasaur could win a battle of Tackle attacks. His pokémon duelled with the magnemite, trying to wear down its resolve as they leapt and dodged. The magnemite swooped in high from the left and it looked as though it might score a dead on hit. Josh opened his mouth to order Bulbasaur to dodge though he knew it would be too late.
Out from under Bulbasaur's bulb whipped a green vine that swatted magnemite aside. Bulbasaur spun round with a growl, extruding another and seizing magnemite with both vines. Magnemite started to whine, growing quickly in volume and pitch till it passed beyond hearing. Supersonic! Josh thought. As he frantically tried to think of a way to counter-attack, he saw Bulbasaur slowly glare up at the magnemite in his grasp.
"Could it be …?" Josh whispered. With a deft flick of its vines Bulbasaur flung the magnemite into the generator shed. There was a sharp ping of metal on concrete – and then the magnemite was drifting to the ground, spinning drunkenly. Josh plunged his hand into a pocket, grabbing the first Poké Ball he found.
"Go!" he yelled, throwing it clumsily over arm. The ball spun erratically in flight, glanced off the dazed magnemite, sucked the dazed pokémon inside, fell to the ground. There was dead silence but for the sound of the Poké Ball rattling fretfully as the button light flashed on and off.
… ping!
"... I caught it." Josh picked the now-silent ball up. The plastic felt cold in his hands. "My first capture." Bulbasaur wandered over and sat himself down next to his master, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. As Josh looked at the ball shining in the moonlight, for the first time since leaving Mulberry Town he felt like a real trainer.