Merry Christmas! I certainly hope my next year will be a lot better! For the people who have been unaware of my life lately, I have been in a motor-accident. I got launched off it by getting hit by a car and I've been revalidating for two months already. The accident had some serious effects on my brain as well (next to a broken femurbone) so writing has been somewhat difficult. This is something I have written way before the accident.
Chapter 3: The Second Spirit
Drew woke when the alarmclock rang at one, even though he didn't remember setting it. Nervously he waited. His father had said there'd be three spirits and even if he had not wanted to believe the first spirit had felt too real to pass off like just a dream.
But he wasn't going to get caught unaware this time. They could send him a dancing Garchomp and he would be ready for it, despite the nervousness at being visited by another ghost. He prided himself in adaptability and he'd stay strong.
But nothing came and in the end that did get him unaware. He saw the clock change numbers, a five, a ten but no spirit.
Then just as he wanted to turn in his bed, passing off his father and the first ghost as a bad dream: mentally noting to file a big complaint about the food, a bright light streamed in from underneath the door, so bright he couldn't think of it as the halllight.
One could disadvice seeking it out, but Drew was already unsettled by the strange occurances happening to him, and wouldn't have listened.
When he put his hand on the doorklink, he heard a voice calling out his name and despite that it was late, Drew opened the door to the hall. Well, it was the hall no doubt as there were the doors to the other rooms. But there were tables with the most delicious looking dishes: there was a goose shimmering in the lights and it was a spectacle of colors and smells, berries and other fruits stood between big plates of pork and luxurious salads.
Drew had never quite seen a feast like it and he was reminded of his own dinner. He pushed that thought away when he saw a young man with an achingly familiar cap. "Ketchum? What are you doing here?" he asked. The man turned around from the plates he had been studying and Drew asked uncertainly: "Ash?" when the man stared at him with piercing eyes and a look that was in no way dumb on his face.
"I am the ghost of Christmas present."
Drew wanted to escape those accusing eyes: there was no love lost between him and Ash. "Christmas present, huh?" he muttered.
The spirit nodded, "You have met my brothers."
At this, Drew looked up at him. "Aren't you an only child?" he asked. He had difficulties separating the ghost from the Ash he had known. The young man looked as ever: black hair from underneath a red cap, a blue jacket above a black shirt and a pair of sneakers. On his belt were pokeballs, just ordinary looking. The fact he did not have his yellow mouse with him made a difference in Drew's mind. If he thought about it, Ash should have turned older as well.
The ghost Ash laughed, "Not quite, each year is another brother."
Drew frowned, "I suppose you have things to show me?" he asked. "Let's see it."
This ghost too held out his hand for Drew to grab and wincing as it was weird to grab Ash' hand, Drw did so. Immediately, the feast was gone and they were outside. The snow was still falling but in this part of town it was hardly noticeable: it had turned dirty of fumes before the white could touch the ground. The neighbourhood was not good.
Drew noticed graffiti with harsh words on the walls, gangs with Pokémon made mean. For a moment, Drew thought of his own Pokémon. What did they think of him? Before squashing the thought forcefully away.
Yet even here was a good ambiance and looking at his companion, he saw the image of Ash giving off sparkles.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
The spirit grinned, "Spreading the spirit of Christmas," he said as if he wasn't sparkling and it was an everyday happening. Truly the people didn't seem as harsh where the ghost came. Then his eyes picked up a figure hurrying along the wall. Drew curiously followed: this man seemed too hurried to not be interesting.
The man hastened to an ordinary apartment-building, even if it was a little downtrodden. Then he entered an equally nothing saying apartment. It was dark inside, as Drew followed, and the man apparently had not quite hoped for that as he sighed heavily.
When the man unwrapped his scarve, Drew recognized him: "That is my server!" he exclaimed. The Ash raised a brow and Drew wondered for a moment how he could've gotten so quickly next to him.
"Well yes," he said simply. Drew didn't stop and wonder why the ghost of Christmas Present came to this house.
"Mother!" the server called while he cautiously went further inside the dinky apartment. The man did not own a lot; he himself was dressed according to the rules of the hotel restaurant but the apartment was dink and drafty. The entered the living room and Drew could smell something of a good meal, but it had been cleared away.
"Mother," the server said quietly while he kneeled in front of a large chair. A frail woman, one Drew had not noticed sat up in blankets. "Bob," she whispered.
"Merry christmas, mother," Bob the waiter said.
The woman frowned, "You are late, we already finished. Your sister in bringing your brother back to the Pokécentre." She coughed harshly and her son worriedly pressed the blankets more around her.
"I am sorry, we had a late diner," he said. Drew felt somewhat guilty, that had been him. He had been the reason Bob missed his family dinner.
The woman scowled, "Leave that place. You can do so much more than serving ungrateful self-centered pricks." This induced another heavy coughing and Bob seemed hesitating to light the fireplace.
"You know that it brings in money, mother. Little brother should be able to become what he wants to be." Mother scoffed again and stared at a picture on the fireplace. On closer look it looked like the mother, Bob the waiter, a girl and sickly looking boy.
"He shouldn't be going back to the Pokécentre! Not when his family wants to see him!" Drew protested.
Ash hummed, "He isn't slacking off. Christmas can't be a reason to waste time?" Drew stayed silent, hearing his own words: they seemed empty now. Bob sighed and went to clean the dishes: a simple meal he could've been enjoying had he been home earlier.
"Spirit, tell me: why us that boy so adamant on getting stronger?" Drew asked. "While it looks like he should take rest more?"
Ash the spirit sparkled some light over the woman who rested a bit more peaceful. "Every little boy needs an idol and you are his. He is determined to become as good of a coordinator as you, even if he works himself to death for it."
This froze Drew's insides: "A boy like him? Spirit, please tell me, will he make it? Will his efforts pay off?"
The ghost looked grim: "If he continues like this: training like this next year, there'll be a belt of pokéballs on the chimney, untouched and a plate less in this house."
Drew stayed silent: he had no idea he had influence like this on just one boy even.
"Mother, do you want some tea?" Bob called from the tiny kitchen. The woman replied positively and soon the two were seated peacefully with each other in the living room and Drew and the ghost continued their journey.
They passed houses with small families curled up watching watching cheesy Christmas movies and passed houses with teenagers throwing wild parties, the ghost smiling on all of them how different they were. None of the families were alone. Even the lonely streetwatch wasn't alone for the ghost of Christmas present held him company until he could go home.
And suddenly, the warmth of the city was gone and Drew found himself in the mountains. Taken aback he looked around: "Where are we?" he asked.
"A popular training spot," the ghost replied. "Trainer who did not go home are still here. But they are not alone." And surely not: when they entered one of the caves, a group of trainers were all together, a few fire-pokémon lighting up the cave and a few grass-pokemon had decorated it somewhat in colors of green.
The ghost smiled and sparkled onto them too: "They do not know each other, but they know me." And surely, Drew saw them enjoying and laughing, some raising cheesy Christmas carols and they did not seem to suffer far from home.
But Drew was not kept there as the spirit went on: over the seas, visiting ships and lonely places and even the most far-off places people were not alone even with only their Pokémon for company. Drew suddenly found himself in front of a house, a small house.
"Do you want to go in?" Ash asked.
Drew nodded hesitantly, not sure what to expect. They entered and Drew barely missed a young woman, maybe 5 years his junior, as she came running with a thick book: "Mother!" she shouted.
A woman looked up from the couch and Drew recognized his mother in the female. ""Then…"he muttered as he shifted his look to the young woman: "Mary?..." he muttered. He looked back at the ghost: "They are alive?" he asked but the spirit only waved at the scene. For the first time since he had been a young boy Drew saw his sister. She had the soft features of their mother, even if her skin was translucent. It was clear she still was not healthy.
Drew's mother looked sadly at her daughter: "Again, Mary? You do it each year."
But Mary did not listen and plumped herself down next to her mother. "You can't forget Drew, mother!" she admonished.
The mother winced, "I promise you, I never will," she said.
'Lies…' was what Drew thought to himself. 'She left me behind.'
The two females in the room had meanwhile opened the book and Mary was staring at a picture. Drew looked at it from over her shoulder. It was a picture of little him carrying baby Mary. And Drew didn't understand: his mother left him behind, why would she even show her daughter this?"\
"Mom?" Mary asked. "Would Drew be a good brother?"
Her mother smiled at the picture, and flipped further into the photobook: it obviously was one, and Drew was surprised to see all pictures of him. Cutouts from newspapers or magazines were lovingly put into the album. All his history of coordinating was in there. "I don't know Mary, but he wanted to be the best brother."
Drew stared into Mary's face for a little, wanting to reach out and touch her. "Of course I would, Mary. I am your brother," he muttered.
Mary smiled sadly and frowned, "Why didn't you ever go back?"
Drew's mother stood up abruptly and went to make some tea, a little more time on her behalf even while Drew was burning with that question as well. "You were so young, so when I ran away I could not leave you alone. But when I went back your father and Drew had already gone."
Well, that made sense. Drew could remember moving and obviously, his mother could not follow. Mary seemed to disapprove. "Even then: why didn't you go find him! He is my brother!"
Their mother put down the utensils and stared at the running water. "I told you, Mary. I was only the mother that had abandoned him. So when I knew he was doing contests, being fine, I already knew I had lost any right of being a mother to him."
Mary leaned over the back of the couch to stare at her mother, "But mom…"
"No, Mary!" her mother said sharply. "I can't change it. Leave it be already."
Drew was stunned: he'd never had thought his mother had wanted to find him. He thought she had just simply forgotten him.
And then suddenly, the calmth of the house was gone and Drew and the spirit found themselves in busy company, the room bright. The spirit looked approving of the party. The group was passing around eggnog and then Harley laughed loudly, an arm around Soledad. "What a shame our ginger-bread cookie couldn't come!" the coordinator laughed.
Soledad pushed him. "You know as well as anyone why not!" she admonished.
Harley pecked her cheek: "Love, stop defending that little brat!" he replied. "He told you to let him celebrate Christmas his own way! It's not your problem he wouldn't know how if it bit him in his ass!" There were sounds of approval around them: everyone knew of whom they spoke,
"He is very successful" someone from the gathered people uttered.
Soledad shook her head, "I am afraid that success won't make him very happy alone." She smiled faintly, "He won't come and talk about it either.
Harley scoffed, "The grasshead can shove it where the sun don't shine, love," he said darkly but Soledad laughed.
"I can't leave him be! It's sorrowful and he misses a lot with it. He wouldn't miss much of his time but he won't laugh with anyone. And I will invite every year, maybe one day I'll even get through to him."
This brought on some small laughter, but Drew didn't miss how Harley whispered to her how she shouldn't forget how he had treated his favorite derpette, but the matter was dropped and they continued with games. Hide-and-seek which looked ridiculous as they were all adults and Harley found the biggest joy in chasing Soledad around the room.
They also played Pokémon games: bubble pop and even a small battle ensued without any big attacks. When Drew opened up to it, he found himself enjoying it. If he had learned to play earlier, his mindset might have been a lot different. After that, they played hints and even Drew found himself playing along even if no one noticed him.
Eventually, he even begged the ghost for a little longer. The Ash frowned but acquiesced. And Drew looked on when Harley started imaging, wildly throwing something away. No-one knew what he meant until he also flicked his hair. The room howled with laughter and replied "It's Dre-e-e-ew!"
There was an universal laugh and Harley raised his glass: "First, to my dear wife, because the goose is still the best ever, next to mine if I'd spare the effort!" he thanked and a few sniggered. Soledad smiled faintly. "And, because he has given us so much to laugh at, and even if he doesn't want it: A Merry Christmas to Drew. May he pull the stick from his ass!"
The room echoed: "To Drew!"
And Drew would have thanked them even, elaborately, feeling quite light but Ash made it quite clear that they could not stay and they went on their way. They visited a lot more houses, rich and poor, lonely or busy: they passed by good people and bad people while the spirit spread its joy.
And while Drew saw and learned more than ever before, he could swear he saw the ghost age every passing moment: a rather strange sight on Ash' eternal face.
"Are you alright?" Drew asked eventually.
The spirit smiled: "My time passes tonight at midnight."
And Drew worriedly looked at his watch and saw only 15 minutes were left of Christmas Day. He shivered and looking upon the spirit he saw smoke coming from the two balls on Ash' belt and a crack appeared in one. "What is that?!" Drew asked aghast: he'd never seen a pokeball break out of its own.
Ash grabbed the balls, "Look then!" he called and called the Pokémon forth. IF there had been any doubt of the spirit's identity, it was gone now, for Drew knew Ash could never raise such wretched versions of the Pokémon as the Houndoom and Mighthyena that appeared were wretched and miserable and they glared at Drew from the spirit's feet.
"Are you their trainer?" Drew asked horrified.
The spirit scoffed, "They are what mankind raises. Ignorance and want!"
Drew shook his head: "That is not how they should be raised!"
The Houndoom named ignorance snarled and the spirit laughed: "Only the strong right? The weak never make it!"
Then his wristwatch beeped: it was a new day and Drew remembered his father's words. The spirit that resembles Ash was gone and looking around, a creature neared him slowly, mist swirling around the legs.
Now, in the Christmas Carol, Drew would have met the future. A dark and heavy cloaked undefined creature would be meeting him silently. But this is not the classic story. Instead Drew was staring in the red eyes of a Pokemon really familiar to him, even if he did not use the too gentle creature anymore.
The disaster Pokémon Absol was his third spirit. And this Drew feared more than anything
Woah, drama folks. Ok. Third spirit coming up. I do hope to finish this story before Christmas 2014. Don't forget to leave a review!