Squirtle fell down to the floor, face first, battered and exhausted. Jolene let out a wisp of air, content; I did just the same.
"That means Kim won," said Professor Oak, as he walked in between us. "Now, are you happy with your choices?"
I took a few seconds to reply, but when I did, it was from the floor where I was suddenly, and without remembering how, embracing Jolene, while an inner voice wondered why on Earth I was doing that, and also complained about the flame being too close to my hair.
I said: "Yes."
Then, as slowly and just as unstoppably as a glacier, a wail erupted from the other side of the white lab coat. It sounded like the air being noisily let out of a balloon, if balloons were able to hold convictions.
"Aaaawww, I chofe the rong Poke-mon!" it said, and then Kevin ran out of the building.
I decided instead to stand up while still holding my Charmander, taking care not to set fire to any stray locks, and turned to Oak.
"Thanks, um, mist'r Oak," I said, wincing a little bit, but the professor did not seem to notice. He absent-mindedly put a finger in his ear and wriggled it around a bit. Then he sniffed the result, with the air about him of having made an interesting find.
"Um, bye," I said, with rather more urgency, then rushed out the door before he could react.
As I was about to honour Mum's wish that I should visit her before leaving, though, I came to a stop, Jolene clasped tight to my chest with both arms, resting my eyes on the sign to the right of our front door.
It had always been there, and so it was very strange that I noticed it now, of all times.
The writing said 'KIM'S HOUSE' in large block type. It struck me as odd now; there were only two houses, and they were never locked, so you couldn't really miss it for very long if you were looking for it. Besides, where was Mum's name? It was her house, not mine, and I wasn't going to live here much longer anyway. Permanently, I meant. Oh... Poor Mum...
The same was true for the Oak residence. It had 'KEVIN'S HOUSE' pasted in block letters on a signpost at the west side. It was almost like a commercial for the people who lived there; the outer walls might as well have been made out of glass.
Perhaps they are, said my sarcasm, and that's why there're people practically camping outside.