Thank you to everyone who's reviewed, favorited, followed, and/or merely read this story thus far. It means the world to me. Here's the third chapter, which I think you will enjoy greatly, because I had a great time writing it. Here goes.
Current music: The Game - Levellers
"No humans left?" I replied, somewhat quizzically. In hindsight, I was probably (read: definitely) in denial, but if there was any chance I'd misheard my wife, I wanted to capitalize on it.
"It sure seems that way, Lucas," Amanda said matter-of-factly. In my mind, she was acting far too casual about this matter. After all, if there were no humans left on the plane, that could mean they'd all died.
"But I don't get it," I muttered. "How did this happen?"
Amanda gave me a sad glance, her orange ear fur "slumping" towards the floor of the plane, as if to say, "Your guess is as good as mine."
Truth be told, she'd be exactly right. This truly was uncharted territory - if an entire plane full of people had ever suddenly become Pokémon before, surely it would have made an impact on the historical record!
"We're not in Massachusetts anymore, Lucas," Amanda said eventually.
"Clearly not," I muttered. "He - the pilot - said we were about to land in Alola. Is that a province of some tropical country somewhere? Which one?"
The fox-like creature next to me, also known as my wife, shrugged. When the former Geography student was at a loss for words, that's when I knew things were bad.
Sooner or later, we touched down and taxied towards the gate. The scenery around the airport was far more rugged than what I'd expected from the Virgin Islands - there were mountains in the distance, with plenty of thick jungle between them and the runway. There was also a heat haze, which I had expected.
"Welcome to Sele Airport, everybody. Whether this is your final destination or you have a connection at this airport, we here at American Airlines wish you safe travels onward. Thank you for flying with us today."
I doubt anyone planned a connection here, I thought bitterly. Alola's not supposed to exist, is it?
The passengers started deplaning one by one, and I indeed saw that none of them were human. Indeed, each one of them had become a colorful creature the likes of which humans could only dream about.
There were blue lizards who looked almost like water dragons from Asian cultures. There were other fox-like characters as well, but while I might be putting a finger on the scale for my wife here, none of them were nearly as majestic as Amanda.
Of course, now wasn't the time to ponder that. I noticed additionally that many of the creatures who staggered off the plane were literally staggering - a considerable number of them had four legs rather than two, so it's understandable.
"Okay, Lucas," Amanda told me eventually. "It's your turn now."
After my wife unbuckled my seat belt for me, I jumped down from the seat and tried to steady myself. "Amanda?" I asked, realizing something I hadn't considered.
"What is it, Lucas?" my wife replied. "Do you need help with something?"
"What about our backpacks? And what about the luggage at baggage claim? Won't we be able to retrieve it?"
"Lucas, you're holding up the line."
I narrowed my eyes as I glanced up at my wife. "I'm dead serious, Amanda. What will we do about our bags?"
"Quite frankly, I think that's the least of our worries," Amanda replied. Truth be told, she was probably right, so I didn't press her any further.
In any case, once I started walking, it took more effort than I care to admit to stay upright. It was probably like being drunk, but I can't say for sure.
To make a long story short, imagine learning to walk again like toddlers do. If you can't do that, just picture each movement requiring much more conscious effort than you're used to. And then you might have an idea of how difficult it is to move as a quadruped when you aren't accustomed to it.
I won't even describe the climb down the stairs onto the tarmac. Use your imagination.
Once we were in the blinding tropical sun, my body felt rather hot and prickly. I guess that shouldn't have been surprising - my entire body was covered in fur.
"Well, this isn't the warm welcome I'd been picturing" I admitted to Amanda.
"Hey, at least we don't have to go through customs" my wife stated casually. "Look on the bright side sometimes, Lucas."
"Wait, what?"
My wife gestured to a neon sign above the terminal's entrance, and I saw that, hey look at that, all passengers from U.S. airports were pre-cleared through customs. There would be no need to go in front of those immigration officers and explain that we had nothing to declare.
"Well, that's nice," I muttered. "I guess we're getting a taxi to our hotel?"
I had to crane my neck to look up at my wife (it was a role reversal, wasn't it, since I was seven inches taller than her as a human), but I didn't need to see her mouth to know she'd gasped.
"Of course," I said blankly. "We don't know our hotel."
"Maybe there'll be a guy holding a sign with a list of passengers to pick up" Amanda conjectured. "And there'll be a shuttle bus or something."
"Perhaps. But let's get into the AC first, I'm boiling out here."
I suppose the interior of the Sele Airport was nice enough, with the poinsettia plants placed every so often and tropical decor on the walls. They did their best to make us feel welcomed, so I'll give them credit for that.
Another thing that struck me: Nobody batted an eye at the sight of dozens of unknown creatures stumbling around the airport. It was almost as though they saw it every day - for all I know, maybe they did.
A tall, black-haired man stood near the baggage carousel. He carried a flag in each hand and a grin on his face. What drew my attention most was the white flag stating the following: ALL PASSENGERS FROM MIAMI - FOLLOW ME!
"I guess we go with you" I mumbled as I read the flag.
"If you arrived on American Airlines Flight 95, that's correct!" the man exclaimed.
"That flag," Amanda said, "it looks like a cross between two flags I've seen before."
"She's smart, isn't she?" the black-haired man asked me with a chuckle.
"She is, that's why I married her" I replied. "What countries, Amanda?"
"Well, the blue and red stripes resemble the Philippine flag. That's the only flag that is turned upside down when that country's at war. But that golden disk in the triangle, coupled with the sky-blue field…that's some smaller Pacific island, right?"
"Which one?" the man holding the flag asked Amanda, as though playfully quizzing her on her knowledge. (Which I suppose is what he was doing.)
"It doesn't matter," my wife replied, suddenly having lost her earlier enthusiasm. It had probably been replaced by a sense of worry, judging by what she said next. "Look, sir…".
"Yes?" the man holding the flag replied.
"I just want to know why we're here and not in the Virgin Islands!"
The guy frowned. "Virgin Islands? That sounds a little naughty, doesn't it?"
"Don't play dumb with me" Amanda responded testily. "I want answers, dammit. How hard is that?"
"Well, you still get a vacation," the man responded with a shrug. "My name is Charles Weldworth, and I'm here to take the guests to the resort."
"But it's not the right resort," a blue-furred, bipedal creature with a chest spike complained. "We already booked an all-inclusive on Saint John, only to end up in Alola. You owe us an explanation, Mr. Weldworth!"
"It wasn't my decision" Weldworth asserted, raising his palms in a dismissive gesture. "When it comes down to it, in terms of which resort you stay at…".
"It matters a lot" I cut in. "Mr. Weldworth, my wife and I would like a refund if we've been booked at your place. We paid for one seven-night stay, so we shouldn't get charged for two!"
Weldworth held up his right hand, quite literally waving the white flag. He gave both of us, as well as the small group that had crowded around him, a rather condescending look, as though dealing with us were beneath him.
"Look," the man said, "it is what it is. We'll do our best to ensure you're compensated by making your stay at the Alolan Castle as exquisite as possible. And we'll negotiate with the authorities in the USVI to that effect, to see to it that you all get your money back."
It didn't seem that anyone was very happy with this gesture; would you be, if your legitimate concerns were dismissed so flippantly on the grounds of It is what it is? There were a great many boos from the crowd, and Amanda and I were among them.
"My job is to drive you all, by ferry, to the resort. And I'm not going to make you wait any longer to start the trip of a lifetime. Welcome to Alola."
Officer Lee: So, how did you adjust to your four-legged life?
Mr. Snow: It seems you don't believe me.
Officer Lee: It doesn't matter whether I believe you or not. You've told me this cockamamie tale about becoming a Pokémon, so you're committed to this line. How did it go?
Mr. Snow: It was awkward. Felt like a marionette on such tiny strings, like I might fall on my face at any moment. Needless to say, it's precarious.
Officer Lee: When you met Charles Weldworth at the airport, did you and your wife confront him about the flight's rerouting?
Mr. Snow: We did. We paid for a trip to Saint Thomas, and we ended up in Alola. Wouldn't you feel like you'd been ripped off too?
Officer Lee: Perhaps I would. So what did you learn about your new form? What Pokémon did your wife become?
Mr. Snow: She was a Braixen. I forget what generation that species is from - I'd have to check the Internet for that.
Officer Lee; No need. It is of no consequence. I just wanted to make sure you had your story straight.
Mr. Snow: Why would I lie to you? I am an innocent man. The truth will set me free, I'm confident of that.
Officer Lee: They all say that, Lucas, but it is the evidence that determines whether a case has merit. If you were in my position, would you accept your testimony as gospel?
Mr. Snow: I know what happened, Officer. I saw it with my own eyes.
The Alolan Sea was surprisingly calm, though this may have only been thanks to the size of the boat. It was a barge sufficiently large to accommodate several dozen guests, which docked just offshore from an island.
Even with my anger at the situation, I had to admit that the island was one of the most beautiful I'd ever seen. Emerald green mountains rose from behind the resort, set against a white sandy beach shaped like the Greek letter Omega. The sea was crystal blue, and so clear I could see fish swimming about.
Something about that sealife, by the way, seemed conscious somehow. I mean, I get that animals in the real world have thoughts too, but they don't have the same power of reason as humans. That was not the case here, and this further reinforced that we were now in the world of Pokémon.
As for the resort itself, it consisted of a network of swimming pools set up with lawn chairs, a swim-up bar, palm trees, and a stucco hotel building that towered over the aforementioned palm trees.
"Wow" I mouthed. I had to crane my neck to see the top of the building, but the roof seemed thatched in a traditional Polynesian style. Again, I might not have been pleased at the circumstances, but I knew impressive architecture when I saw it.
"Wow is right, Litleo!" came a rather excessive voice from behind me.
Now, let me explain. You're probably wondering how a voice can be excessive. Well, it's not that it was particularly loud, although it was. It was more in the presentation - the bearer of this voice seemed as though he'd never been more excited to say anything in his life.
"Uh, hello" I muttered.
I turned around to find that those words had come from a broad-shouldered, graying man wearing a business suit and a flower necklace - a lei. He towered over me, though he probably wouldn't have if I'd been at my human height. If I had to guess, he was maybe about 60 years old, though I'm not the best judge of that.
"Good afternoon, Litleo. What's your name again?"
"Uh…Lucas. Lucas Snow" I said cautiously. Of course, there was no harm in giving him my name now - I'd have to divulge that information anyway before long, since I'd made the reservation at the resort. Even if it was the wrong resort.
"How ironic that your last name is Snow" the man responded. "It's so warm and sunny here, and you decide to travel to Alola with a last name that brings winter to mind!"
"Well, it wasn't exactly my choice" I mumbled, but the man just chuckled.
"Did the Braixen lady there talk you into it?" he replied, a shit-eating grin on his face. "I guess you've got to make concessions to your betrothed sometimes."
The fox-like creature also known as Amanda stepped out from behind me, stomping towards the man and kicking up some sand in the process. It wasn't just her pupils that were red now; the whites of her eyes were no longer white.
"I didn't force Lucas into it, sir" my wife snapped. "Neither of us intended to travel to Alola."
"Well, none of that matters now" the man (whom I surmised was likely the hotel's owner) asserted. "You're here now."
Something rubbed me the wrong way about how calmly the hotelier insisted that none of it mattered. It was as if he thought he knew how we felt, that he could assume all was well just because we were at a resort anyway. Quite frankly, that was pretty insensitive of him.
"Look," Amanda muttered, "we want answers. And you haven't given us any. How did we get here, for one? I thought I knew American Airlines so well."
"Well, you don't know everything," the man responded, still smiling. "The name's Terrence Anthony Grimlock, but you can call me TAG for short. I'm the founder and owner of the Alolan Castle, and I'm proud to welcome you two to your vacation."
"This isn't much of a vacation, honestly!" Those words belonged to a bipedal blue creature with beige stomach fur and a bone-white spike rising out of her chest. "We're worried that our families don't know where we are - ".
Grimlock raised an eyebrow. "Who are you, Lucario? I have all your names on the guest list, but I haven't matched them with the faces yet. What's your name?"
The woman who'd been identified as a Lucario, whatever that was, bared her fangs. "I'm Marilyn Jennings, and you're going to tell me what the airline did to us. Why is it that we ended up in a fictional world instead of a U.S. territory?"
"I don't mind it, Mom!" came a higher-pitched voice from not far away. A shorter creature, one without a chest spike but otherwise resembling Marilyn greatly, came bounding up the beach, holding his paws in the air and waving them like he just didn't care.
Marilyn grimaced. "My son told me that we're in the Pokémon world. This is his greatest dream, evidently, but it's my worst nightmare. It's as if Dobbs wasn't enough - I don't even have my human body anymore! I'm some freak with a chest spike!"
Grimlock looked a bit confused. "What is this…Dobbs? I can't say I'm familiar with Earthly news. Why is it relevant?"
"Look, it doesn't matter," Marilyn retorted. "You're going to tell me, right now, what you've done. Because I just want answers - ".
"Don't you want a vacation, though?" Grimlock replied, that oblivious grin returning to his face.
"Fuck this vacation, I want out of here!" the Lucario lady bellowed, turning tail and storming down the beach.
Amanda sighed. "I might be wrong, but I have a feeling she won't get anywhere."
"You're not wrong" Grimlock said, nodding and showing his rows of artificially white teeth. "I don't know how you all ended up in the world of Pokémon, but while you're at the Alolan Castle, you might as well enjoy it. Supposedly you Americans don't get much PTO."
"This is our honeymoon, sir," I told Grimlock. "It's not going to be very romantic if all we do is worry about our families. Imagine how they must be feeling - a missing plane is going to be national news!"
"Nothing I can do about that," the hotelier said softly, still smiling somehow despite everything.
"Why are you complaining, Litleo? This is, like, the best thing ever!" the younger blue creature exclaimed, leaping upward and doing a cartwheel in the sand.
Grimlock clapped repeatedly. "See? That's the spirit, Riolu! What's your name?"
"Spencer!" the "Riolu" exclaimed. "Spencer Jennings! I'm Marilyn's son!"
"Well, when your mother comes back, we'll have a nice chat about this, and hopefully she'll come to the realization that it's not that bad here after all. In fact, this is the best resort in the Alolan Islands, bar none."
"Not that bad? This is heaven!" Spencer shouted happily before launching into a dance routine that couldn't have been choreographed at all.
Amanda, on the other hand, seemed far less enthusiastic about our situation. She might even have called it a predicament.
As soon as the line of guests were led to the front desk to check in, my wife turned to me, bent over to get into my ear, and whispered the following: "This place seems super shady. This whole situation does."
"Let's make the best of it," I insisted. "It's our honeymoon, after all."
Deep down, though, Amanda's words affected me. Not because I thought she was wrong, mind you, but because I feared she was right.
For those curious: I decided this story will be set in December 2025. Since this is a SI, I selected the year when I will be twenty-five years old (though in reality, I'm nowhere close to getting married in two years). In this timeline, the Dobbs decision does happen in 2022. But that's enough about politics - you didn't come here for that.