Disclaimer: I don't own Pokémon or The Blair Witch Project. There are also numerous references herein to It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, which I also—shockingly!—do not own. I'm simply employing aspects of their awesomeness to sculpt this little tale.
Many thanks to all you wonderful readers, especially those of you who have reviewed and have already added this story to their favorites! Wow, you guys believe this thing will actually be good to the very end? ;) Haha, just kidding—I am so grateful for your support! I do hope you like this chapter just as much. Halloween antics in Pallet Town continue! Beware—er, I mean, enjoy! ^^;
SOON BEGINS BEWITCHING
by Spruceton Spook
Chapter 2
"Season of the Witch"
The wrench thrown into Ash, Misty, and Brock's schedule was quickly adjusted to by all inhabitants of the Ketchum residence. Bags were partially unpacked, a necessary trip to the supermarket was made, and Delia was soon enough tripping over Ash's sneakers in the foyer again. It was as if they had never planned on leaving in the first place.
There were some individuals who weren't too happy about this change of itinerary, though.
Maintaining a safe and inconspicuous distance but in clear sight of the home—whose front stoop was now generously ornamented with an assortment of pumpkins—three downtrodden members of the notorious Team Rocket huddled in perplexity.
"I thought you said they were leaving today! What gives?" the female member growled in her cohort's direction.
The man's face constricted sheepishly from behind his binoculars. "I don't know, Jess. That's what I'd heard," James answered, wary of her mounting irritation.
"Well, you obviously heard wrong," she accused.
"Yeah. Looks like dere not goin' anywhere soon," Meowth agreed regretfully.
"Great." The word shot from Jessie's lips like a snapping twig. "Just what I need: another 'x' amount of days sleeping in the dirt waiting for those damn twerps to finish playing house."
"Maybe they just decided to spend an extra night…" James murmured, hoping to placate his impatient partner.
"Maybe they're not leaving at all," retorted Jessie, her frustration driving her abnormal pessimism.
"In which case, we'd be screwed," Meowth deduced eloquently.
Realizing there was no denying the pokémon's statement, Jessie and James heaved a disappointed sigh.
The dastardly trio hated when the twerps had a layover in Pallet Town. And there were far too many of those lately, unfortunate was the case.
It hadn't always been like that. In the past, Pallet Town was treated just like any town, city, or stretch of woodland—that being an open arena for an attempt at capturing Pikachu or any other interesting pokémon in the twerps' possession.
But then he came along. They were fuzzy on the details as to how or why he suddenly showed up on the scene, but it was clear he was there to stay. And with the unpleasant memory of their brief and painful introduction to the twerp's father—and his arcanine's fire spin—still fresh in their minds, Team Rocket was not about to test those tender waters again.
Jessie didn't like to attribute their cautious decision to "smartening up"…after all, it would only be a hit against her unquestionable intelligence. No, it was simply years of experience fine-tuning the team's astuteness in properly picking their battles.
Taking on the brat's old man was not something they were presently…prepared for. They had been blasted off many, many, many times in the past, but that one? That one had been really bad.
The apple hadn't fallen too far from that tree.
Another failed attempt at capturing Pikachu was no good for the organization…but, as Jessie liked to point out, neither were the project's agents' fiery deaths.
It gave them a break, which they appreciated. But the boss didn't appreciate it. While the twerps were busy slacking off, overindulging, and sucking up to those pathetically mainstream, insipid parents (one of whom just otherwise happened to own a ferocious pokémon and spine-chilling glower to boot), the three engaged in considerably easier missions. Enough to keep the boss off their backs and themselves employed.
What was worse, even with the twerps unaware of their adversaries in shifty pursuit, they still seemed to make every chance of attack gallingly difficult. There had been some excitement that morning when the kids left the house, but before any kind of strike could be orchestrated, they were suddenly amidst a tourist trap swarmed with hundreds of witnesses manned with cell phones and the police on speed-dial.
Again, battles properly picked. Jessie, as perturbed as she was, was pleased with herself.
Meowth snatched a pretty decent-sized pumpkin at James' giddy request and Team Rocket allowed the twerps to carry on.
But it was now getting progressively harder and annoying to just let Pikachu and the children get away. Jessie was tense, itching for a good battle, the indefinite deferral giving her brain time to devise a number of creative, different strategies that just seemed infallible. But nearly all of them involved ambushing the kids out in the middle of the wilderness, alone and vulnerable, and more importantly, not under the vigilance and guard of one daunting and formidable Daddy Twerp.
That guy would make an awesome Rocket, Jessie had thought to herself quite a few times. Despite being a new, reviled enemy, there was no denying his intimidating presence and extraordinary battle authority were the attractive qualities of a brilliant Team Rocket agent.
Those weren't the only things attractive about him, but Jessie kept that thought strictly to herself.
Yes, everything used to be so much easier in Pallet Town when all the children had were that airheaded mother and blundering professor on their side. His redeeming aspects aside, Jessie hated the twerp's father—with a passion. And the sooner she got the trio and Pikachu away from his patrol, the better.
"They're staying for Halloween."
James' blunt, unexpected statement wrenched Jessie's head to attention.
"What makes you think that?"
James shrugged. "Well, they went pumpkin picking. They've been helping decorate the house. Why would they do of all those things and not stick around for the actual day?"
Feeling her stomach sink, Jessie groaned. "How many days till Halloween?" She had no idea what the hell day it was and dreaded the answer.
"Six," James answered after a moment of calculating.
"Oh, terrific!" she spat, throwing her arms up in petulance. "I can't take another six days of this!"
"I—I could be wrong!" James quickly contradicted for her sake.
"No, you aren't wrong. For once." She crossed her arms heatedly. "Of course that's what they're doing! We should've known right away. A lame holiday for a lame bunch of brats."
James looked aggrieved. "I like Halloween…"
Jessie rolled her eyes and scoffed loudly. Hating to see his partner so worked up, James gently stood and grabbed one of her hands, easing it out of the stiff ball it was clenched into.
"Jessie, I know you're not too keen on trying to capture Pikachu with the twerp's father around, but perhaps we could give it another shot."
Looking aghast at his suggestion, Jessie sputtered, "Are you crazy?"
"Hear me out," James replied calmly. "He isn't with them all the time. You know that. We've had a few chances to attack when he's been gone for the day. There really is no need for you to always be so…how do I put it, now? Anxious."
Jessie leveled an offended look at her partner. "What are you saying, James?"
"He's sayin' you're paranoid," Meowth interjected.
"Meowth!"
"I am not paranoid!" Jessie insisted huffily, jerking her hand free of James'. "And I'm not being anxious! I'm being cautious! What's wrong with that? What's wrong with biding our time and acting with clever discretion? What's wrong with knowing when's the best opportunity to attack and when isn't?"
"We'd know if we actually did something other than jabberin' about it!" Meowth exclaimed. Obviously, he too was starting to be overcome by a sort of frustrating "cabin fever" at their lack of activity.
"We will do something, Meowth," Jessie glared. "Just as soon as those kids leave, okay?"
Suddenly, her request quirkily granted, the door to the Ketchum residence flew open and the twerps (and Pikachu—their eyes always drew instantly to that familiar splash of yellow) spilled into the yard. The three Rockets withdrew into the brush, more out of instinct than necessity, as they were already pretty well shielded. The kids were hardly checking out the vicinity, anyway, instead preoccupied with an obscure, black object in Ash's hands.
Squinting, Jessie struggled to identify the thing that seemed to be generating quite a buzz. Any time the twerps were excited over something, she was excited. Such an interest-grabber often meant something Jessie wanted a piece of—or the whole thing, if all went well.
"What are those twerps up to?" she wondered out loud, her voice laden with residual frustration. She wrenched the binoculars out of James' hands violently, eliciting a yelp from her startled partner.
It was hard to focus in as the children were hardly still, chattering and cavorting about and heading out of the yard with hardly a dither. Their recreation seemed visibly beget by the mystery item, which Jessie was finally able to tentatively distinguish as…a portable camcorder?
This was different.
"What are they doing with that?"
"Doing with what, Jess?"
Jessie lowered the binoculars, her confounded stare still fixed on the twerps' commotion.
"A video camera. What are they going to do, make frivolous home movies? How much more time can these brats actually waste?"
Meowth leaped onto her shoulder for a better vantage point. "Perhaps dey ain't wastin' any time, Jess. Maybe dey're off t' film somethin' real special."
Jessie perked at that. "Special…?" she echoed wistfully. "Special as in…something special we might be interested in?"
"Ohhh!" James cried excitedly. "Perhaps they're off to document something like a herd of rare, elusive pokémon!"
Even though the idea sounded a bit outrageous, Jessie's heart was beginning to pump wildly. Perhaps it was just the restiveness in her veins reacting, but all the same, the hope planted in her by her partners' speculations was making it harder to dismiss the twerps' new mysterious action.
"What are we waiting for then?" she beamed deviously. "I say we follow those twerps and find out just what it is they're out to discover."
"Finally!" Meowth exalted.
"That's the spirit, Jess!" James smiled laudably.
And then without warning, the front door to the Ketchum home swung open again, and appearing in the doorway was none other than the dreaded form of the one person Jessie didn't need to see. Cursing violently under her breath, she grabbed James' shoulder and dragged them even further into the brush, nearly tripping over her own feet frantically in the process.
Meowth narrowed his eyes. "What were you sayin' about not bein' paranoid?" the cat asked contemptuously.
"Oh, shut up!" Jessie barked. Her eyes were still trained on the twerp's blasted father, watching him wave to the three kids with a sickeningly cheery smile, bidding them good luck. Good luck—good luck with what? What were those kids about to do? Whatever it was, the happy faces and the burgeoning excitement and the crushing air of the unknown were making Jessie's innards writhe with suspense.
She needed to know what was going on right away. Analyzing the scene more intensely, she inferred that they couldn't be going far. They didn't have their backpacks. The mother wasn't out to offer a goodbye. This could certainly pose as the opportunity they had been looking for, but Jessie still had her fears in the back of her mind. After all, they'd thought earlier that day was their big chance…
"Just give me a shout if you want me to come and help!" that abhorrent man suddenly yelled, loud enough for Jessie to hear and trigger her to spew another loutish curse.
There was no doubt in her mind that he'd help all right—whether it meant with the enigmatic mission or violently doing away with their ever-persistent enemies.
Why couldn't they just catch a break this month?
"Ugggh, I hate him, hateimhateimhateim!" she grumbled under her breath. The wind gushed, whipping her long hair into her sullen, goaded face.
James and Meowth exchanged a knowing, thwarted look. Jessie's hopeful surge of aspiration was going to flounder as quickly as it had surfaced, tempting opportunity at hand or not. Things were going to get ugly, whether in the form of an inopportune run-in with the man of the house across the way or Jessie's explosive impatience.
"Jessie," James said carefully. "I…I know you're worried. But I think it would be a good idea to follow the twerps. We don't have to attack if we don't need to. But just in case where they're heading is in our best interests, we should keep an eye on them."
Breathing soundly out of anger and strain, Jessie took a moment to let this proposal sink in. The old man had disappeared into the house, the kids were halfway down the street. Her feet itched to take off after them but her nerves tied her back. Part of her didn't even understand this atypical restraint she was experiencing, and listening to James' gentle coaxing and Meowth's vexation only piled the tension on. She did want to see what they were up to, but she didn't want to risk their hides, either. With the twerp's father just a call away, who knew how open their opportunities truly were. The thought sent a chill through her, and disgust at the overall situation could be felt in the pit of her stomach.
Jessie went over the optimistic strategy to herself: Follow discreetly, observe quietly, execute wisely. It all sounded rational and doable, and no doubt professional. Looking into James' wavering emerald eyes, hopeful and persuasive, Jessie took a deep breath and managed a plucky smile.
"All right. Let's do it..."
Well, this day had certainly turned out to be a smorgasbord of events.
Just twenty-four hours before, Ash had envisioned himself at this given moment somewhere between Pallet and Olivine, the supportive company of his best friends and a mission on the mind so strong and focal that he was able to distance himself from the alluring comforts of home.
Plans had changed, but ironically enough, a mission still turned out to be the driving force of the afternoon's activities.
Granted, it was a bit more inconsequential than the previous intent, but it energized Ash all the same. It was going to be fun, challenging, and ultimately a constructive time-waster. If Ash had a week to kill at home (that was putting it crudely—it wasn't how he really felt, but he couldn't help admit he was a tad bored), this was certainly a way to do it. However it stacked up in terms of importance, at least one thing was clear: it sure did beat doing chores.
Which was exactly what Delia had almost greedily suggested following the kids' excursion to the pumpkin patch. Riley had shut down, the fuss of the outing plunging him into an early nap, and Delia had seen fit to use the time gainfully to get stuff done around the house. Accosting the kids when they were aimlessly futzing about, they couldn't hide the fact that they had nothing really to do. Ash, desperate to escape work of any kind, threw out the Olivine threat again. He was kidding, but Delia wasn't when she countered with her own threat of withholding dinner.
Before Ash had a chance to gripe about being tricked into staying home just for the purpose of indentured servitude, Jay, the fair-weather turncoat, came to the kids' rescue. He respected Ash's complaint, much to his son's delight and his wife's dismay.
But he wasn't about to just let the kids idle around, either. With a shrewd smirk, he'd declared that he was going to assign them a project. The call was certainly out-of-the-blue and bizarre, and just like that, the buoyant look on Ash's face had wiped clean away.
"A project?" he'd wrinkled his nose in disdain. He'd always associated the term "project" with "school," and if that was going to be their only alternative, then where was the vacuum cleaner?
But Misty had been intrigued. "What kind of project?" To Ash, this smelled awfully like something not up his alley, so naturally Misty was all ears.
"Don't worry," Jay had grinned, rendering Ash even more distrustful, "you'll like it."
Moments later, the kids had been presented with the family's old camcorder, inducing a collective reaction of confusion. As Ash had accepted it bemusedly into his hands, the realization hit that he hadn't seen the thing for many, many years. A blast of nostalgia overtook him, setting off scenes in his head of his dad pursuing him all over with the camera, capturing his childhood adventures and mishaps. It shocked him to grasp just how long ago that had been. His mother had never really taken to home movies—she had been more into documenting his childhood with her still camera—so when Jay had left, so too did Ash's personal cameraman.
"Uhh, what are we supposed to do with this?" Ash had cautiously asked his father, who was bubbling with expectancy. "Tape our pokémon battles?"
"Well…yeah, sure, you can do that, I suppose. But I had something…a little different in mind."
"What's that…?"
The grin had widened. "I want you to make me a movie."
Ash could have laughed his head off. How quickly the tides had turned: his misgiving and Misty's optimistic curiosity did a complete reversal. As soon as Jay lay down the framework of his challenge for the kids, one that he had been concocting in his head since he and his wife had influenced them to stay home, the outlook of Ash's afternoon transformed from lackluster to colorful, a spark of childlike enthusiasm empowering him to accept Jay's request. Misty was not as inspired…but it came as no surprise. Ash wasn't about to let that damper his new venture, though.
"But that's exactly why we're doing this!" he said in reply to his girlfriend's qualm a little while later. Setting out soon after Jay had issued the assignment, they were ambling down the road with no real destination in mind—or precise ideas for the project, for that matter. "It's going to help you, Misty."
Pikachu chirped brightly from atop his shoulders, clearly feeding off the jollity of his trainer and not the disapproval emitting from the girl trailing closely behind.
"I don't see how making me act out something that scared the daylights out of me helps me," Misty argued, enveloping her arms securely around herself. She had left Togepi back at the house, as he'd fallen to the same afternoon drowsiness that claimed Riley. Besides, if they really were going to reenact that chaotic, disturbing story, there was no need to bring her tiny pokémon along.
Ash sighed with a soft smile. "C'mon, you heard what Dad said. Acting this out ourselves and making our own version of it can get rid of all the fear and doubt you have about this stuff actually happening to us."
"A little reminder that it's all just fiction," Brock added.
Misty slumped, unconvinced. "But why that movie? Why can't we make up our scary story and not rehash someone else's?" She lowered her voice significantly before murmuring, "Especially one that I hate."
Shrugging one shoulder cannily, Ash's smile broadened. "And how would that help you conquer your fear?"
Not understanding (or believing) that that was the only reason behind this exercise, Misty persisted. "Can't we act out something a little less scary? You know, like the Charlie Brown Halloween story or something?"
"Boring!" Ash rolled his eyes. "You got to be kidding me. Who would want to watch that?"
Misty smirked. "Your mom."
"She doesn't count," Ash replied, knowing his mom would watch anything he created, as corny or dumb or trite as it might be. "Besides, Dad's the one who challenged us with this—and he wants to see us do Blair Witch. So we're gonna do Blair Witch."
"Hooray," Misty replied sardonically.
"I think this is going to be fun," Brock remarked. "How often do we get to play like this? We're always working or training or doing chores. This is a great chance for us to just mess around."
"Exactly, Brock!" Ash exclaimed happily.
"Besides, I used to love to act out my favorite movies when I was younger. My friend and I would make up all kinds of our own stories, too." Brock smiled proudly. "I've got acting experience."
"Hey, so do you!" Ash pointed out to Misty. All of a sudden, he swung the camera in her face and a little red light pierced her eye, indicating he was rolling. Terrific. "All those shows you do back home! C'mon, Misty, you know you'll love the camera!"
Misty was giving him—well, the camera—a look, but Ash couldn't tell as he struggled fruitlessly to adjust the blurry image on the display. He really needed to learn how to use the thing…
"Have you seen me do any shows there lately?" she said wearily. "And even if I do happen to love the camera, it doesn't mean I feel like running around the woods screaming my head off like a maniac in front of one!"
Ash's face lit up. "That'll be the best part!"
"Me doing it or you doing it?" Misty narrowed her eyes.
"Both." Ash lowered the camera and studied it. "We're all gonna have to take turns filming, too. Otherwise we won't all be able to star in it."
"Hey, how 'bout I do all the filming?" Misty attempted to grab the camera from his hands but he swiftly yanked it out of her reach. "Ash!"
"No way, Misty!" he frowned. "That's not the way the movie was. You gotta be in it, too."
"Well, let me film first, then!" Another failed swipe.
"Nuh-uh! I wanna film first!"
"What makes you boss?"
"It's my camera. And my dad who gave us the project." With that, Ash bolted ahead a few feet and briskly spun around, continuing to film Misty as he walked on backward. A rascally beam spread his cheeks behind the bulky device.
Misty glared into the camera, but there was no spite behind the look—just silent frustration at her puckish boyfriend who (as much as she regretted to admit it) had called checkmate with that point.
"You two are hilarious," Brock said dryly. "How about instead of arguing over who's doing the filming, let's talk about what the movie's actually going to be about."
Ash, still meandering in reverse, pivoted the camera toward Brock. "That's easy! I already have it all figured out. We're going to be three pokémon trainers who decide to film their journey and suddenly find themselves being hunted down by a witch!"
"How original," Misty mumbled.
Ash smiled, pleased with himself despite her derisive remark. "It's perfect! It's gonna be really scary, too!"
That statement was punctuated by Ash abruptly catching his foot on a rut in the road and nearly staggered to the ground. Pikachu, caught completely off-guard by the stumble, was pitched unceremoniously off Ash's shoulder with a cry but managed to land safely to the side. After a few furious arm-pinwheels, Ash was able to right himself but the damage was already done. Misty and Brock did all they could to smother their giggles at the mishap.
"Well, let's look at it this way—if it doesn't end up being scary, we might have a shot at the grand prize for funniest home video!" Brock laughed.
Ash ducked his head, hiding an abashed smile.
"Ash, I think it would be wise to walk in the right direction if you insist on doing the filming," Misty admonished after finally gaining control of her laughter.
The suggestion to correct his foolishness notwithstanding, the unease gently dissolved from Ash's smile. Misty was cheerfully amused, the happiest he had seen her since their mission was assigned, and suddenly Ash was thankful for his stumble. If that's all it took to bring back her high spirits, then he'd trip and fall a million times over. Fortunately, such ungainliness didn't exactly come hard to him.
"I think it would be, too," he agreed. "I wouldn't want to hurt the camera."
"I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself," Misty said. She then paused before adding almost halfheartedly, "How would you be able to make this movie then, huh?"
She was biting back a reticent smile at that comment, though, which implied to Ash that while she still had reservations, she valued his enthusiasm and ultimately wasn't going to squash it. That was the Misty he knew. Then and there, Ash was determined to ensure that she was going to have fun doing this project. It was now his primary goal, along with making his dad happy with his effort.
Unnoticeably, Ash flicked the camera off (and made a mental note to erase the embarrassing evidence of his ineptness later). Pikachu reclaimed his position and the group continued on. It wasn't long before they found themselves on the periphery of the Viridian Forest, as if it went without saying that this was the appropriate area to begin filming. They slipped quietly into a small clearing in the woodland, brilliant foliage towering above their heads. It set a warm, pleasant scene in the face of the misfortune they were about to fabricate.
"All right, guys!" Ash trilled, his finger dancing readily off the record button. "Scene one, act one—action!"
"Wait!" Misty cried. "Don't we have to decide what our lines are first?"
"What lines?" Ash replied. He flipped his cap backwards to make looking through the viewfinder easier. "We're just gonna make it up as we go along. All we have to do is act natural!"
"Act natural?" Misty snorted, humored by his naivety. "Sorry, Ash, last time I checked, my life didn't involve running from a murderous witch. How do I act natural for that?"
Ash groaned theatrically. "Well, the first scene has nothing to do with that! It's just going to be us walking through the woods as if we were heading to our first town. I would hope you know how to act that out, seeing as we do it everyday, Misty. Sheesh."
"Sheesh yourself!" Misty kicked at the ankle-deep leaves, sending a scattering at Ash. "This isn't easy for me. I'll do the movie, Ash, but I need some sort of script."
"Then you write it."
"Me? This is your movie, buster!"
"So? I don't need a script."
"If there isn't a script, how are we supposed to know when something scary's supposed to happen?"
Ash tried desperately to keep a straight face. "Misty, don't worry about that. Any scene with you in it'll be scary, anyway."
His girlfriend's pretty features twisted under her lethal glare. "Ash, keep it up, and a witch will be the least of your worries."
"Alright, alright, take it easy," Brock determined, quickly holding out his hands to achieve peace. Geez, and Ash was filming this—too bad it was all about producing a script, otherwise their quarrel would have been the ideal "natural" dialogue Ash was looking for. "I think we should just stop and talk about it and try to figure out what we want to do."
"Yeah, like some sort of semblance of an idea," Misty huffed. Her heart rate was slightly elevated from the squabble.
"But if we want it to be anything like Blair Witch, it has to be somewhat improvised—right, Brock?" Ash argued.
"It will be improvised," Brock quickly appeased. "But Misty's right, Ash, we do have to have some sort of plan. Otherwise we're just going to wind up running around out here filming a complete mess."
Misty rolled her eyes. "Trust me, if Ash controls the camera the whole time, it's going to be a complete mess whether we have a plan or not."
"Hey!" Ash cried indignantly.
"Okay, guys, seriously? Knock it off," Brock reprimanded. Ash stuck his tongue out at Misty, which caused her to glower. "Let's calm down and decide how we want to approach this. Think about…how we want the movie to start. Or how we want it to end. Something. If we have some sort of idea, we can at least work from there."
After a moment of meditative silence, Misty squirmed, her eyes shifting uncomfortably. "Well…we know how it will end…right?"
Ash and Brock's faces rose with interest.
"Uh, we do?" Ash asked.
Shrugging slightly, Misty uttered a nervous laugh. "Well, yeah. Aren't we…? I mean, don't we…don't we die?"
"Die?" Ash gasped, his eyes widening. Pikachu let out an edgy cry in response, as well.
Brock put a hand to his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm…I suppose that's probably what's going to happen."
"No!" Ash's sudden outburst drew the stunned attentions of Misty and Brock. He scowled, looking almost aghast. "Who says we have to die?"
"Um, the premise of the movie, maybe? That's what happens," Misty responded, her voice drifting off reluctantly. And Ash honestly wondered why she wasn't thrilled about doing this. The thought of faking death, even in a movie, settled within her disturbingly.
"But who says that that's what has to happen in our movie?"
Misty and Brock exchanged a short glance, consulting each other with Ash's argument.
"He does have a point," Brock said after a moment. "We don't want to copy the movie verbatim."
"Ver-what?" Ash blinked.
"That's true," Misty concurred, relief amplifying her tone. "We can do whatever we want with this, can't we?"
"Of course we can!" Brock laughed. "And that means…not dying. If we don't want to."
"Good!" Misty sighed, beyond comforted that one thing was looking up about her willingness to participate.
"But guys, I never thought we were going to die," Ash cut in matter-of-factly. He drew his free arm around his stomach and propped the elbow of his other arm on it, supporting the weight of the camera which was becoming increasingly taxing. He could feel the blood starting to drain out of it, and it would be no time before he relented and handed the camera off to one of his friends.
"After all," he added with a knowing smile, "we have one thing that those kids didn't have."
"Better maps?" Misty smirked.
"I wouldn't be so sure about that just yet," Brock winced playfully.
"No!" replied Ash zanily, getting a kick out of watching their expressions through the screen of the video camera. "Guys…we have pokémon."
Misty snickered. "Oh, sure, okay. So you're saying that those kids would have made it if they had a pikachu with them."
Ash slumped. "Misty, no. Think about it. You really don't believe they could have stood a better chance if they had some pokémon with them? I'm sure a psychic pokémon could have been some sort of help."
Misty was ready to retort, but Brock interjected. "I actually like what you're thinking," he said, pursing his lips. "I'm not sure if any physical attacks could have stopped the witch, but psychic could have, certainly. Or maybe even ghost pokémon!"
"That's great, Brock, but we don't have any psychic or ghost pokémon," Misty said.
Ash arched an eye. "But you have Psyd—"
"No," Misty grated with harsh succinctness.
"All right, all right!" he reeled back. "Guess there goes that, then."
The tranquil sounds of the forest enveloping them, they stood in silence for a few minutes, each delving deep in thought to try to conjure ideas. Ash was troubled by how much his imagination was failing him at the moment. Perhaps, he pondered, the extent of his creativity drew a line at pokémon battle strategy. Some help that would be for this project, though.
The burden of the camera finally getting the best of his numbing arm, he shut the record button off and let his arm drop to his side. He figured he just recorded about half-an-hour of their fooling around and indecisiveness. As much as that didn't help the situation, he knew they'd probably have fun later watching it all over again. If only they had had a video camera during most of their journeys—he couldn't even begin to recall how many moments he would loved to have archived for endless memories.
During his intermittent lapse into nostalgia, his mind never quite drifted from their project. He really wanted to do this—or at least make an honest attempt at it, for his dad's sake, if not his own—and Ash knew Brock was right. And…well, Misty was, too. Improvisation only worked well in certain circumstances. They had to start somewhere. Suddenly, the concept of deciding the ending to their unsettled tale seemed more than just plausible. In fact, it sounded…almost familiar…
"Wait a second!" he suddenly cried, startling his two friends. His eyes were wide as saucers at the recollection. "That's it!"
"What's it?" Misty jumped.
"The ending! I know what we can do!"
"What?" the two of them prompted. The only response they received was Ash exploding into a run toward the entrance of the woods, nearly throwing Pikachu again from his shoulder in the process. Misty and Brock had no choice but to take off after him.
Ignoring the annoyed calls from his friends, Ash continued his sprint toward his new-found destination. It was all coming to him so quickly, leaving him overwhelmed with his unexpected spark of inspiration. He was certain now that it was what they needed to do. The end of the actual movie clicking with a fading image of his childhood, everything was rapidly coming together. Of course! Why hadn't it seem so obvious before? And what better thing to do than film the end of the movie, with such an idea in sight…after all, hadn't they learned anything from their rendezvous with that hapless director Schpealbunk?
Just as the ideal and fantastic plan that had invaded his head began to blossom, a sudden realization halted Ash dead in his tracks. Misty and Brock, who had been hurrying swiftly to keep up, nearly tripped over their own faltering feet as they did all they could to avoid a nasty collision. They managed, but none too happily.
"ASH!" Misty exclaimed, righting herself. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Why'd you stop like that?" Brock barked. "And where were you going?"
Ash turned to them, biting his lip glumly. "I just had the perfect idea for the place where we could film the end of the movie."
"Yeah, we got that. Are you gonna tell us where it is, or what?" Misty inquired, frustrated.
"I was going to take you there," Ash replied, "but…I just realized something."
"And that is…?" Brock asked.
Ash tapped the tips of his index fingers together tensely. "That…we kinda should get permission for it."
Misty paused, giving him a look. "Why? What is it?"
"It's..." Ash trailed off reluctantly. Darn it—he didn't want to tell them, he wanted to show them! Such a perfect idea could only be unveiled with a touch of mystery and spectacle. For a brief moment, he contemplated foregoing this pesky hurdle and high-tailing it straight to his perfect destination, but his conscience was kicking in big time.
Still trying to retain a bit of that desired suspense, though, he put forth a placatory smile. "Let me go ask Mom. Then I'll take you right there."
"You won't tell us in the meantime?" Misty frowned.
"…Not yet," Ash said. He was already itching to make the temporary pit-stop at home. He was practically dancing on his toes. "I want it to be a surprise. You guys are gonna love it, I promise! You're going to think it's perfect!"
"Well, if you say so," Brock shrugged. "You've definitely gotten me interested, I can tell you that."
"He's gotten me suspicious." Misty narrowed her eyes at her suddenly-elated boyfriend. "What have you got up your sleeve, Ash Ketchum? What is this place? And why do we need to ask your mom if we can go?"
"Misty!" Ash all but whined through a hyper grin. "Quit askin' questions, will ya?"
"Is it a bad place?"
"A bad place?" Ash echoed ludicrously. "No!"
"Do we have to travel far to get there?"
"No..."
"Does it cost a lot of money?"
"It won't cost a thing! Misty, let's go," he prompted again, motioning for her to get a move on. He was about as on edge as a spirited rapidash.
But Misty's feet didn't budge a centimeter, unwillingly halting the restless boy. "Then why do we need your mom's permission?" she asked calmly.
Ash, now tenaciously determined not to disclose the secret location, balled his fists. "Because we just do, okay?"
Brock took notice that Ash was becoming increasingly agitated with Misty's cross-examination and quickly jumped in before another one of their infamous brawls tarnished the afternoon. These two were in rare form today, that was for sure.
"Guys, c'mon, we're wasting time." He ushered them in the direction of home decisively. The two younger kids began walking, their eyes never leaving each other, the sparks still flying. "Whatever it is, Misty, the sooner we get there, the sooner we'll find out."
"Thank you, Brock," Ash said. A bit of smugness salted his tone, meant of course for Misty's ears. Brock mentally rolled his eyes; he had an aching feeling this wasn't going to be the last of his two friends' spars over this project. He was already exhausted, and it had all only just begun.
"Don't mention it," he replied. "Especially with your track record of hotheadedness and recklessness, Ash? And here in Pallet Town, besides? The fact that you've actually thought straight enough to ask your mom's permission means this oughta be real good."
In spite of his friend's friendly gibe, Ash had to smile. It was gonna be good all right. They'd see.
That is, if Mom said yes, of course. Which she would. Ash was positive.
Somewhat.
When they got back to the house, Ash couldn't tear his jacket off fast enough. The excitement over his superlative idea, combined with the nagging doubt that he'd be able to capitalize off it, had him breaking out into a frantic sweat. The usual coziness of his home was all but sweltering; with all hope, he'd be back out into the cool air in just a few minutes.
His near-rowdy entrance grabbed the attention of Riley, who was sitting up in his playpen right outside the kitchen with a teething toy clamped between his drooling jaws. The baby instantly got bouncy, almost feeling the energy exuding from his flushed, animated brother. Ash beamed as soon as he saw how enraptured Riley was at his arrival, and quickly put the video camera down to scoop the infant up.
"Hey, Ri-Ri," Ash whispered, jostling the baby gently. Riley responded by shoving his soggy chewy into Ash's lips in offering, causing Ash to laugh as he dipped his head to avoid it. "Whoa, no thanks, that's yours!"
"Ash? What are you kids doing back so soon?" Delia's voice floated from the kitchen. Ash took a step backward to see her in the process of pulling out a large cooking pan from the cabinet. She gave them a curious look. "I thought you were filming your little movie."
"Yeah, Ash!" Misty agreed way too chirpily. "What are we doing back home so fast? You rushed us home to play with Riley? I thought you said it was for something really important."
Ash glared at Misty, aware of exactly what she was doing. She knew he was still nervous about speaking to his mother regarding his mystery idea. Seeing her exaggerated grin stretching from ear to ear, he wondered just how much she loved being the instigator.
Well, if that's how she was going to play, then he'd just have to amiably rise to her challenge. If she thought adding her innocuous teasing to the mix would provide more fun at his expense, he had full intention of gracefully proving her wrong. Besides, he had approached his mother countless times with requests far more outrageous than this one…one of them successfully paying off. He had the miles under his belt and the gym badges to prove it.
Misty's grin was temporarily expunged as Ash suddenly plopped Riley into her unprepared arms. Not that she minded, for the baby seemed to be roosted in her arms more frequently than Togepi as of late. With a perky wink at his two friends, Ash then sauntered into the kitchen like a man on a mission…but with the smile of a jittery young boy.
At the sight of the familiar large dishpan, Ash excitedly ascertained that lasagna would be on the menu tonight. Pushing his stimulated appetite aside, he quickly refocused on the task at hand. He drew near to his mother and leaned into the counter, tilting his face right into her line of vision.
"Hi, Mom," he sang.
Delia sensed his approach, but when his head practically dove into the lasagna pan to get her attention, she startled slightly.
"A-Ash," she laughed, pushing his head back up gently with her fingers. "We don't need your hair in the dinner tonight, honey."
"Sorry." He wandered not an inch from her side, and while it was always nice to have her son so close, he was definitely ignoring the concept of personal space.
"Little breather room?" she requested.
"I have to talk to you about something."
Uh-oh. There was that cautious, innocent tone she knew all too well. Figured—her afternoon had been going smoothly. That always proved too good to be true with her dynamic family. Delia paused, letting her hands fall to the counter, and fixed her son a weary stare.
"What did you do?"
Ash startled for a second before he quickly realized how misleading his attitude had been.
"Wha...? Oh, n-no, nothing, nothing!" He gave a laugh. "No, I just wanted to ask you something."
"Oh." Delia picked up her head, relieved, but her eyes retained some leeriness. There was still reason to be a tad skeptical of Ash's behavior. Something was up, and it probably wasn't something she'd be too thrilled with, if history had anything to say about it. Ash didn't have a habit of beating around the bush if something was invariably Mommy-approved.
"Ummm…" Ash hesitated, biting his lip.
Yup, Delia thought. Definitely something fishy cooking up in her little scamp's brain.
Then he let loose: "Me an' Misty an' Brock—we're having a hard time with our movie. We really don't know what we wanna do with it. We know most of it's gonna take place in the woods, but we were just discussing how we want it to begin and end, and all of a sudden I got the perfect idea where we can shoot the last scene of the movie! I think it would be really awesome and really appropriate, but I know I should probably ask you first, and I really hope you think it's a cool idea, too, because—"
"Ash, Ash, whoooa, baby." Goodness, she hadn't heard him ramble like this since he'd started preparing for his initial Pokémon journey. Delia rubbed above her eye. "Slow down. Where is it you want to film?"
The motor-mouth was silenced again. Delia tipped her head, wondering just what in the world Ash wanted that commanded such disparate extremes of emotions.
Ash's heart hammered in his chest. "…The old Simmons place?" There—he said it. And as soon as he did, he could feel his stomach drop like a hunk of lead. His breath seized in his lungs. It was as if voicing the request out loud suddenly exposed just how absurd it was to think this was going to work out.
Like he should have anticipated from the start, his mother simply stared at him for a moment, straight-faced, before declaring concisely, "No."
As unsurprising as that was, so too was Ash's immediate reaction. "Aww, man! Why not?"
With that easy ruling out of the way, Delia resumed her dinner preparation, striding past her deflated son to assemble ingredients. "You know why not."
"Yeah, I know, but Mom, it's different now!" Ash argued. "I'm a lot older! And I know how to be careful! Nothing bad's gonna happen. I promise!"
"Ash, don't tell me nothing bad's going to happen. You don't know that." Delia fetched the lasagna noodles and tomato sauce from the cabinet.
"Yes, I do! I swear, I'll be so careful! Can't we do it there? Please?"
"Ash, what are you talking about?" Misty interjected her boyfriend's sudden pouts and pleas. "What the heck is the old Simmons place?"
"The coolest house ever that would be the perfect setting for our movie!" Ash exclaimed.
"No, it wouldn't be," Delia countered. "You're not filming there, Ash. No."
"Oh, come on! Why not?" he complained sharply.
His mother set the jar of sauce down on the counter a bit forcefully and frowned at her persistent son. "Why not? Ash, that place was dangerous back then, and it's certainly no better now! If you think I'm going to let you go anywhere near there, you're out of your mind."
"It wasn't that bad back then!"
A heavy silence filled the room as Delia studied him intensely. "Oh, yeah? And how exactly would you know that?"
Ash winced. Oops. Leave it to his hectic, reckless brain to inadvertently blurt out the secret that he had disobeyed her years ago. He couldn't help it, though! The long-abandoned Simmons residence was the one place every Pallet Town parent stressed their child to avoid, its dilapidated, rickety foundation a calamity waiting to happen. By the same token, it was also a notoriously appealing, daring hotspot to explore for any local youngster, and Ash, not that impervious to peer pressure back then, was definitely no exception.
The skitty was out of the bag now—no use being tight-lipped anymore.
"Okay, fine, so I went in the house a few times," Ash finally confessed, though scarcely able to make the awkward eye-contact with Delia as he did. "But look, I didn't get hurt! I'm safe! And that was a long time ago, besides! You can't charge me with double monopoly!"
His mother arched an eyebrow in confusion and Brock burst out laughing.
"Ash, you mean double jeopardy!" he corrected hysterically. Catching on to Ash's flub, Misty blushed and began to giggle.
"He has no idea what he's talking about at all," Delia sighed. "Ash, I can't charge you with double jeopardy because technically I didn't charge you in the first place."
"Uhhh… Oh…"
"But it doesn't matter," she shrugged. "You're right—that was then and this is now. And just like I said 'no' then, I'm going to say 'no' now."
Ash's shoulders wilted in defeat. "But Mom, you don't get it. It would be so cool. I can't think of a better spot to film the end of our movie! It takes place in the basement of an abandoned house—"
"The basement! Okay, Ash! Sure. Yes, you totally go in the basement of a house that's practically falling down. No problem! Go for it, kiddo."
Not at all amused with his mother's sarcastic remarks, Ash scowled. "I didn't say I was going to go in the basement of the house! I was just saying how the real movie goes, and that we can film our movie in a safe area of the house so it can have the same feel. That's all!"
"There is no safe area in that house."
"You don't know that."
"Maybe not. Guess that's just going to have to remain a mystery."
"Ugh, Mama," Ash whined, and instantly regretted doing so. He didn't want to sound so embarrassingly juvenile, but his frustration was trumping his self-control. While he knew he shouldn't have been shocked by his mother's firmness on the matter, he'd been a bit confident that being older and more conscientious about safety would have at least allowed her to consider it before putting her foot down immediately.
Dolefully, Ash stole a glance at his friends. With apologetic faces, Misty and Brock simply shrugged, not having much else to respond with. Riley had taken to pulling on Misty's windblown, tousled hair, causing her to add a slight cringe to her expression.
Delia began filling a large stovetop pot with water. "You want to film in a scary basement, Ash? Ours will do the trick fine."
Ash frowned. "Yeah, sure," he folded his arms huffily. "It'll be real scary when we're in the middle of a scene and all of a sudden you come downstairs to do a load of wash."
"Don't be silly. That won't happen." Delia looked over her shoulder and produced a cunning grin. "Especially since I'll have you do the laundry beforehand, just to make extra sure you aren't disturbed."
Fighting the urge to laugh scathingly at that, reckoning that insolence wasn't the answer, Ash just exhaled loudly. It was hard for him to admit defeat, but he knew in his heart it was no use pushing the issue anymore. Delia was never going to say yes, even if he got the Town of Pallet to inspect the house and draw up an official document declaring it safe. Ash almost snorted out loud, imagining himself going to the town hall to file that request.
Just then, Jay entered the kitchen from the backyard, where he had been raking for part of the afternoon. He looked surprised when he saw the kids huddling in the threshold.
"Hey," he greeted Ash, taking a breath to warm his lungs. "What happened with the movie? You lost interest in it already?"
"Oh no, he didn't lose interest." Delia gave Jay a sardonic smile as he helped himself to a glass of water at the sink. "You should hear what kind of crazy ideas he's coming up with."
"Oh, yeah?" Jay's face brightened excitedly. "Like what?"
"Like coming to me and asking if it would okay to film in that dangerous, old Simmons house."
Jay's eyes widened at Ash as the glass was perched at his lips. "The Simmons house? Neat!"
Huffing in annoyance, Delia faced her husband. "Jay, don't say that, please. It's not neat. That's not a safe place for Ash to go in, and you know that."
"I didn't say I approved," Jay replied unflappably. He swigged some water. "I just said it was neat."
Delia rolled her eyes. "That's all I need is for you to encourage him to not listen to me. Again."
Jay finished his drink in one tremendous gulp and grinned at his son. "I gotta say, you got an awesome thought-process there, squirt. The Simmons place is just like that creepy house in Blair Witch."
"Yeah, I know!" Ash beamed, happy that his father was keen on his concept.
"But Mommy's right—not really a good idea to film there. It is pretty sketchy. I can't even believe the place is still standing! Would've thought it'd be rubble by now. Last thing we need is for you guys to be the reason that actually happens."
Well, there went that faint twinkle of hope that permission could have still been bestowed. Then again, this was the man recently infamous for his unpredictable alliances. Ash did believe that Jay thought the idea was cool, but ultimately he was ever much the sensible parent.
Having no other choice, Ash nodded softly in yielding. It wasn't as if it were an invalid point; every time Ash returned to Pallet, part of him was surprised the house was still intact. But after dealing with much more uncertain surfaces in his travels and getting through those safely (most of the time…), he was sure the Simmons house would've been doable enough.
It was a shame; such a wasted opportunity…
"Got any other good ideas, otherwise?" his dad inquired.
Ash pursed his lips. Considering his one and only good idea had been vetoed by both of his folks, Jay's question disheartened him. "Mmm, not really. We're kinda having a hard time with it. We're not exactly filmmakers, Dad."
"Ahh, don't worry about that," Jay dismissed it airily. "You don't need to be. It'll come to you. You'll figure out something soon enough. I'm not looking for you to film the next great horror masterpiece here, dude. Just have fun with it—don't drive yourself crazy or anything."
"Too late," Brock chuckled, recalling how Scene One had almost inadvertently emulated the ferocious fight scenes of the original.
"And please—be careful," Delia beseeched Ash, inflicting some very timorous eyes on her son. "I'd prefer if you didn't shoot your movie someplace where you could get hurt."
"Well, that practically rules out everywhere, so we'd better stop filming altogether!" Misty joked.
Ash looked resentful. "Not helping, Misty!"
It really wasn't helping. For an instant, Delia looked dreadfully reminded of her son's clumsiness, but was suddenly distracted by the boiling water jolting the lid off the pot on the stove. She quickly jumped to turn the flame down.
"All right, well, if you're going to go out, do it now," she advised as she began to delicately drop the lasagna noodles into the water one at a time. "Dinner will be ready in an hour and a half."
"You know I'll be home for that!" smiled Ash. He turned to his friends. "You guys wanna go out and do some more filming?"
"…I guess so," Misty sighed, and Ash couldn't help but suspect that it was out of disappointment. Her disinclination about making the film had seemed to have faded, but did she still actually hate it? Looking reluctant to let go of Riley, she placed the baby gently back in his playpen, much to his own displeasure. He immediately started fussing, but Jay hastily went to snatch his son up.
"Have fun, kiddies!" he said merrily, bobbing in place to soothe Riley. "Remember: don't take it so seriously. Just go with the flow!"
"And be safe," Delia added, underscoring her utmost concern again. "Please don't do anything risky! Stay out of trouble with this, okay?"
Forgetting about Misty's discouraging attitude, Ash grinned. "When have you ever known me to get in trouble?" he said, his own crazy, little way of assuring her he'd comply. He loped backwards and retrieved the camcorder.
His mother gave him a semi-harmless glare at his joke. "Look, I'm already worried enough as it is that you're doing this. I don't get why you or your father would want to imitate all the terrible things that happened in that movie."
You and Misty both, Ash thought, but he'd convince Misty otherwise.
"Delia," Jay groaned laughingly, "quit knocking the movie or I'm gonna start having choice things to say about your favorites. And you know I can be brutal."
Delia waved him away, then pointed a stringent finger at her son. "And especially none of that disgraceful language! I hear one dirty word out of your mouth in your movie, mister, and the only thing you'll be tasting on Halloween is a bar of soap!"
Giggling awkwardly, Ash rubbed the back of his head. "Ah, you got it, Mom. No cursing."
Floundering to look convinced, Delia shook her head and went back to attending to the noodles.
"So where you gonna go?" Jay asked as they began shuffling their way out.
Pausing briefly as he faced the open doorway, Misty and Brock already passed through into the blustery yard, Ash whirled around and gave his father an uncertain smile. "Uh, back to where we were. The woods. Up the road."
"Alrighty then." Jay picked up Riley's tiny hand and had the baby wave goodbye to his brother.
Ash, charmed with the cuteness of the gesture, waved delicately back. Then he dashed outside, slamming the door behind him with a whoosh that sent the vertical blinds on the patio doors swaying chaotically. There was enough of a ripple between the vanes for Jay to catch sight of his son motioning his friends to follow him downhill, the opposite direction of where he had just verified.
Strange.
Somehow, Jay didn't believe Ash's sense of direction was that faulty. It couldn't be. As his baby son started chewing on the cords of his sweatshirt, Jay allowed a shrewd grin to steal to his lips.
You little punk.
TO BE CONTINUED...
So will reforming The Blair Witch Project really help Misty get over her fears? Will it succeed in putting Ash's restlessness to creative use? Will Brock be able to reconcile the dissonance and keep his two friends from inadvertently adding bloodshed to this harmless parody? Was Jay is his right mind when he thought up this crazy idea? Answers to come...
Thanks for reading!