Chapter Nineteen
Puzzle Solving

To say Annabelle and Paul were at a "slight disadvantage" would have been a kindness. No sooner had Sensei given the word to go, the half dozen other pairs were off like homing Pidgeys, leaving the two adults feeling very small compared to their junior competitors.

"Okay…" Annabelle tried to hide the flush in her cheeks and studied the Objective List. "Let's try and look at this sensibly…"

"Sensibly" was not a word that Paul wanted to associate with right now, especially with the prize of a Fighting Pokemon egg glimmering in the distance. "Anything coming to you?" he huffed.

"…no." Annabelle admitted. "Oh, this would be so much easier if I knew where the hell we actually are…" she added, twisting her head around, trying to pick out some familiar landmark she could cross reference to her map.

"It can't be that difficult! It's meant for kids!"

"All right, smartass!" Annabelle shoved the list into Paul's chest. "You do it then!"

Paul flustered trying to regain control of the unwieldy sheets of paper. "W-well, we need to decide if we want to go for the easier objectives or the hard ones. You know, go for the search and find ones or try and solve the puzzle ones."

"Are you any good at puzzles? Cos I'm not."

"I… I'm not sure."

"Not sure?" Annabelle smirked. "I thought a gamer was supposed to be good at puzzles?" When Paul made some noncommittal noise in response, she nodded. "Ah, I see. Only good at the shoot-shoot-shoot-bullet-bullet-gun games, then?"

"Go to hell, Annabelle." He retorted, but didn't mean it. "Look, let's just start here. The one point objectives. See, get a Pidgey feather"? Take a selfie with a wild Pokemon? We can do that, right?"

"Sure?"

"Let's go, then. We'll wander about the park a bit, see what we can find…"

Paul mouthed the objectives to himself as he wandered, not actually paying much attention to his surroundings. Annabelle had to pull on his shirt to stop him ploughing straight into the path of a woman and a pushchair, then again into a parked car.

"For Arceus's sake, Paul," Annabelle hissed, yanking the paper from him. "You need to be more careful! And haven't you noticed something really important?"

"What?"

"Look around you!" Annabelle swept her hands around. "Do you see any of the other kids just chilling out here? Nope. There's nothing here to find. We need to go a bit further! Look, look!" she tapped on the sheet. "Look here. "Three Pokeballs and a Super Potion give you just enough change from $2000 to buy this item. Show us what it is!" There's bound to be a mart on one of these streets. We can go up there, maybe ask one of the clerks to help us!" she added, an uncharacteristic glint in her eye.

"Hang on…" Paul said, scanning the sentence again. "No, no we don't. Three Pokeballs and a Super Potion… that's $1300. Change from that, $700. So… the only item available from general marts that costs that, assuming standard supermarket and specialised Pokemarts charge the same standard price and nothing inflated for scarcity value, then that means it's another Super Potion!"

Annabelle blinked. She had barely been able to keep up with the words that had spilled out of him, let alone understand what the hell he was talking about. She eventually managed a token "Are you sure?"

"Well… you can get Max Repels for the same price." He said after some consideration. "But I'm pretty sure not in Goldenrod. They're only available in higher rank Marts, you know, posh ones that service people who have Gym badges… so I seriously don't think they'd want us to get that. Especially if these are kids."

"Paul, how the hell do you know that? And if you say "I remember it from the games" I swear to Arceus I will kick you in the balls."

"Well… working in a supermarket, you know a little bit about pricing. Even ordinary supermarkets have to stock standard healing items, basic Pokeballs, etcetera." He paused for a moment, taking pride in Annabelle's stunned face. "Oh, and I remember it from the games."

Neatly dodging Annabelle's incoming fist, he stepped backwards and smiled triumphantly. "I've got a Super Potion in my bag already! So that's one down!"

"Yeah, and about twenty-nine more to go!" Annabelle groaned, obediently trudging after him down into the centre of the city.

.-.-.

Sitting in front of two cool glasses of lemonade, Paul mopped the sweat from his brow and marked a cross at the top of the paper. "So, that's the Pidgey feather and the mystery item dealt with. So that's… two points." He stole a glance at the time on his phone. "And… we have two hours and fifteen minutes left for the rest of it." He swore several times until the barista glared at him.

Annabelle lazily twiddled the straw in her glass. "Maybe if you would let me see the sheet?"

Paul narrowed his eyes. "You really think you can solve these?"

"I got the Pidgey feather, didn't I?"

"You stole the Pidgey feather from a two year old!"

"No, I didn't! I traded for it."

"You bribed her with sweets when the mother wasn't looking."

"Doesn't matter. Give it here." Annabelle snatched the sheet back. "Alright… there's some here that seem simple enough. They're only like one point each, but, dammit we need points now. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

"Okay…" Annabelle scratched the back of her head. "Find a baby Meowth. Hm, that's a bit odd. Does Goldenrod have, like, a massive influx of them? But still, shouldn't be too hard. Oh! We could take a selfie with it and knock off another one at the same time!"

Paul tapped his finger on the sheet. "Doesn't it say the selfie has to be with a wild Pokemon? I doubt you'd be lucky enough to find a baby Meowth that wasn't owned by somebody."

Dammit. Foiled again. Annabelle let a breath of exasperation leave her and kept reading. "Well, look. Here's one. Building with the most storeys. That's gotta be the tallest one! That can't be too hard to figure out."

"Storeys or stories?"

"Huh?"

"Check the spelling."

"Er… spelled with "ie". Is that a typo?"

"I doubt it. So it seems we don't want a tall building, then. We want somewhere that has a lot of books. Like a bookstore or a—"

"Library!"

"Yeah, or that." Paul looked up from his drink just in time to see the café's revolving door still whirring from Annabelle's departure. Glancing out the window, he saw that she had somehow already reached fifty metres down the road, jogging on the spot at a red crossing light. Her lemonade, as well as the map and camera, were still with Paul. He sighed and heaved himself back to his feet. This was going to be a long day.

By the time he caught back up with Annabelle, she had frozen at the crossing light, furiously patting down her pockets and rummaging in her bag. "Oh noooo, oh no, oh no, oh no," she cried. "I'm such an idiot! I left everything behind! The juice, and the map, and the—"

"Camera?" Paul pushed it into her hands.

Annabelle let out a tiny squeak as she was reunited with it. "Ah…yes. G-good work there, Paul. I was worried for a second."

"You mean paralytic?"

"No time for semantics Paul, we've got pictures to take! Come here, come here!"

Before Paul could protest, she threw her arm around him and pulled him close. She held up the camera in front of them and spent a considerable amount of time positioning it so the huge figure of the Goldenrod Library across the street was captured too. With a click and a whir, the flash went off, and their first picture was taken. Paul staggered away, his eyes burning from the light. That Annabelle. She had to stand at the most oblique angle possible, didn't she? Feet wide apart and the camera two inches from their faces.

"Okay, that's that!" Annabelle looped the camera strap around her neck. "Alright, pass me the map!" Another pat down of her pockets. "Oh, no, where's the map? Where's the map, you stupid bas…" She censored herself just as a pair of old ladies shuffled past on her right.

"Map's right here." Paul waved the map at her.

"Okay, so what's closest?"

A glance over her shoulder and she spied Goldenrod's famous arch lurking in the distance while the department store stood tall and proud above its industrial brethren on the other side of the city. It was a long walk to both landmarks. And the word "climb" in the objective list was a cause for concern. Paul was already sweating.

"How are you for climbing?"

"Shit." Paul deadpanned. "Wait, climbing what exactly?"

"Either stairs or an arch, depending on what you'd prefer?"

"No way in hell am I climbing an arch." Paul folded his arms as if that was the end of the matter. "Let's do the other one. Isn't that the weird thing for sale in the department store?"

"Nice memory." Annabelle grinned. "Come on, let's go. We're wasting time!"

Ever the optimist, Annabelle kept one eye trained on the list as she strolled a comfortable distance ahead of Paul. On the lookout for anything that could have secretly doubled as an objective's solution, vigilance was key! Any random Pokemon, or an abundance of mahogany, and she was ready to pounce on it.

Her thoughts bounced around her head. Maybe a lucky selfie would just happen to snag a wild Pokémon in the background? Maybe two birds with one stone. A really clever and efficient way to earn points and it would maybe even impress Paul.

"Annabelle?"

"Yeah?"

"Where exactly are you going?"

Snapping herself back into her senses, Annabelle found she had come to a stop outside an ice cream stand. Over her shoulder Paul was a full twenty metres away, lazily pointing at the department store across the street.

"C'mon, Annabelle. Snacks later, let's move."

"Alright boss," she hid her embarrassment, badly, behind sarcasm. "Remember, third floor. This thing's designed for kids so I hope it'll be really obvious."

Annabelle had been in the Goldenrod department store many times before, as had Paul, but it was still an awe-inspiring sight. Intimidating and breath-taking, it attracted tourists like Volbeat to a lamp. Sightseers and locals all mixed together, cluttering up the polished floors and gulping in the sweet air-conditioned atmosphere. At last count, the department store boasted at least a hundred shops of all different varieties. Antique and art stalls, jewellery stores, luxury boutiques, souvenir kiosks – and that was just the first floor. A minefield for the clumsy, full of hand crafted figurines, glass bowls and plates, all left on low shelves where they could easily be knocked and broken. Annabelle led Paul through the first floor carefully towards the lifts, trying to avoid the pasted on smiles of the uniformed shop assistants flogging perfumes and colognes.

With a heavy palm thrust and a wary "boop!" Paul summoned the lift. Nothing happened. The little light above the lift told them that it was still all the way up on floor six.

"Why do we have to take the lift?" Annabelle whined.

"Because it means not climbing stairs."

"But the damn thing hasn't even moved since you pushed the button like a week ago!"

"It'll get here, just be patient."

"We don't have the time to be patient! We're almost halfway through the three hour time limit already!"

"You got a better plan?"

"Yeah, take the stairs!"

"Okay, you do that. I'll take the lift."

"Oh, you…" Annabelle balled a fist at the hem of her dress. "Fine! Here's a bet! I bet I can climb those stairs and find the thing before you even get there!"

Paul shrugged. "Sure. What'll you owe me?"

"Ooh, cocky aren't you? Well how does… a hundred sound?"

Paul gave her a blank stare. "…a hundred? That's like loose change."

"Maybe for you, Paul, but remember exactly why I don't have any money right now?"

"…fine," Paul waved her fury away. The light on the elevator clicked down one floor. "Better get running."

Annabelle flailed out a concoction of rage, panic and adrenaline, but took off across the polished floor as fast as her legs could carry her, barely avoiding stacked shelves and other customers in her wake.

Meanwhile the elevator had descended another floor. Paul continued to stare at it, unblinkingly, as Annabelle no doubt had made it one floor up by now. If she tripped and broke something, would he win the bet by default?

Another floor.

He probably should've clarified that situation first. There was no way she would agree to it after the fact. No even vaguely intelligent person would do that.

Another floor down. Just one to go.

A shriek came from one of the floors above. Was that Annabelle, or just her fault?

Paul shrugged. Either way, he didn't have to climb any stairs.

Bing bong!

Finally. Paul plodded into the lift, and mashed his hand into the button for floor three. With a sour stench he couldn't quite identify – rotten fruit and sweaty worker, with a side order of bleach? – the cheap metallic effect and cheesy 16-bit music made him feel nauseous. But still better than the stairs.

With every movement the lift rocked. The lights flickered, and there was a sharp, almost rhythmic thud, to the point where Paul had visions of the lift somehow detaching itself and plummeting to his death below. But the crappy music continued playing. It reminded him of The Sprout Tower music and for a moment, he felt like a kid again.

Bing bong.

The heavy metallic doors whirred open. Paul swore.

For standing right outside of the lift, shiny with sweat and smug with victory, stood Annabelle. She clutched the camera in one hand as if it were a trophy, while the other offered Paul a rude gesture.

He didn't even bother to feel angry. A laugh threatened to bubble out of him. "Good thing I'm the only one in this lift huh?" He raised his eyebrows. "Otherwise that would've been pretty embarrassing."

Annabelle averted her gaze and folded her hands back together. "…y-yeah, it kinda would. Anyway, I got the photo. So you owe me a hundred."

"You certain you got the right thing?" Paul still hadn't left the lift. "Because these places sell all sorts of weird crap."

"Pretty sure," Annabelle nodded fervently. "I mean, it was weird to have a Chikorita plushie in with the X Attacks and stuff… right?"

"Yeah, sounds about right," Paul shrugged. "Well, seeya on the bottom floor again."

"Hey wait—" Annabelle protested, however her voice was quickly silenced by the lift doors whooshing shut again. Paul smiled to himself as the lift swept downwards. After all, he could still win by default.

After a soggy, sweaty Annabelle finally caught up with him at the front of the department store, he, quite meanly, gave her no chance to recover. "What's next?"

"I don't even know…" she panted. "You tell me."

"You've got the list," Paul reminded her.

"Oh-oh yeah…" Annabelle flustered. Quickly she scanned the list once again. "Well… the arch is another obvious thing, but that's on the other side of town. Any of these sound like they're nearby to you?"

She pushed the list upon Paul and his eyes lazily traced across the page. "Well… the one who cries the most…?"

"Could be anyone, right?" Annabelle shrugged. "I mean, there's bound to be thousands of little kids in this ci—"

"It's Whitney."

Annabelle's eyes bulged. "You're joking. This city's feared gym leader cries a lot?"

"Yup. In the games at least."

"Paul, we are not bugging the gym leader because of something the games say!"

"Well they haven't steered us wrong so far. Remember the Super Potion thing?"

"Hang on, that was simple maths!"

"And insider knowledge."

"Well fine, fine then!" Annabelle snatched the paper back off him. "If the games are so smart, who… who made the Wailmer Wail?"

"Lady who owns the flower shop. Should be right near the gym." Paul didn't miss a beat. He even surprised himself how easily the answer came to him.

"Ugh," Annabelle creased, and folded the list away into her pocket. "You better be right…"

With her strides about three feet apart, Annabelle was escalating the distance between herself and Paul by the second, as he simply stomped after her in a half an effort to keep up. Why she was so against the games? Too steeped in her own reality to open her mind, probably.

Either way, she was little more than a blur in the distance as Paul purposely lagged behind. She'd already taken a wrong turn, taking a left at the train tracks where she should've gone right on ahead. That would help him catch up. And when she calmed down, and saw that his knowledge about the games was actually helping them, then maybe she wouldn't yell as much.

A flutter of wings.

"…Annabelle," Paul called out. She and the gaggle of city-goers between them took no notice. Yet he couldn't move.

"A-Annabelle." His voice was raised a notch. Did she have a phone? Even if she did, he couldn't text her because he didn't have her number. That much he knew. And yet, the itchy shuffling in his hair wasn't likely to stay for long.

"Annabellllle!" Paul actually called down the road. Other Goldenrod citizens had taken notice now, giving him looks that varied from bemused right the way up to plain amused. One little brat even had the nerve to point. Paul gulped, and raised a leg. Clearly she either couldn't – or wouldn't – hear him, so he had to take the risk, and slowly shuffle forwards, as the visitor in his hair gurgled.

But after three steps taken, and about three inches moved, this clearly wasn't going to achieve anything.

Paul groaned. "ANNA-BELLE!"

"WHAT?" came her grumpy reply from across the street. Finally, Annabelle had noticed, and was retreating back towards him. "What is so urgent that you had to—oooh!" She stood stock-still as if even daring to breathe would scare the little visitor. She fumbled with the camera. "K-keep still, alright?"

"Just don't make me look awful, got it?"

"Alright and three, two, one aaaaand, kissy face!" Annabelle pursed her lips at him. Paul returned a dead-eyed stare as the camera flashed, and captured the comical sight in front of her.

Author's Notes

Okay. Hoo boy, this one was a toughie.

I don't know what happened, guys. I was totally pumped to get some chapters out while I was on holiday but I just ground to a total halt with it. I don't know why but I just lost motivation entirely with this scenario.

There's a bit of a reduction in the number of chapters I'll be doing for the treasure hunt scenario, I'm trying to keep it down to two. Although I have quite a lot to get through in the next chapter. Please be kind to me and bear with me.

I have the rest of the story officially planned out now so I have no excuses now! I'd like to finish up before I start university so I'll do my best.

Lots of love to you guys if you've stuck with me through so many hiatuses.

And massive thanks to The Neverending Meep who basically ghostwrote this chapter to help me get over my block!