I sneak in three cigarettes before I reach Fairweather Daycare. The layout's not too dissimilar from the Mach n' Van base as there's a large building overlooking a field where Pokemon can roam, though the daycare part resembles more of a school than a house as it's all blocky stone and concrete. I can't see Dex in the scuffle of Pokemon playing in the grass, though from what I've gathered, he prefers staying indoors.
I take a deep breath. This day could go many different ways, especially once he meets Barry. Am I ready for this? I don't even know if I'd be a good replacement dad. My hand reaches for my pocket, and I almost light up when I catch the reflection of the booster seat strapped in the back.
We bought that thing just for today; second-hand, but still, it's proof we've made a commitment. Dex wouldn't want to be stuck in my car all day with smoke clinging everywhere. So I think of our future day out again as I stuff the pack of Numels in the glovebox, and head out.
I'm still surprised by how colourful the daycare's insides are. The walls are candy-coloured slabs of red and blue, where murals of big, four-legged Pokemon chase each other along the plaster. I'd be fooled into thinking this was a play park for humans if it wasn't for the humanoid Pokemon wrestling each other in an area covered with padded mats.
"You hit like a girl," a Tyrogue yells while he's hanging upside down.
"I am a girl, moron!" a Pancham yells back as she's about to suplex the kid.
The rest don't stop them, in fact, they're egging them on. There's no sign of Dex anywhere.
My pocket's screaming for attention. I shouldn't feel uncomfortable here already. This is normal. This is what fighting types do. They fight. We did this for fun back home. But even some run of the mill rough-housing feels so alien to me now.
I don't have long to dwell on it as the Tyrogue's feet slip from the Pancham's grasp, and his head thunks against the floor.
I wince. That foam sure didn't protect him from the fall. Blimey, the Tyrogue's in tears now, and so's the Pancham. The human caretaker, Maisie, pops out of the other room with an Arcanine following after her. She's about to dash into the scuffle when she spots me.
"Shoot," she mutters. "S'more, could you deal with this, please?"
The Arcanine rolls his eyes and breaks up the group of Pokemon. Maisie approaches me with an outstretched hand.
"Hey, Glen!" Maisie greets, smiling even with puffy eyes, "you chose a good time to stop by."
I stare down for a moment. I'm always wary whenever I go for a handshake, since some humans aren't aware of my strength, but I've done this enough times to handle a simple greeting.
"Don't sweat it." I extend mine to her, but I let her shake it. "I bet this is what you have to deal with on a daily basis anyway."
"Yeah. It's never a dull day for us." She laughs, though it's a little strained. "Are you just here to take Dex?"
"Uh huh."
"Then follow me to the gym."
She walks me through the daycare to a lounge area where two Pokemon, a Hitmontop and Gothita, playing a fighting game on a TV. I recognise the characters: one's a half-human, half-Purrloin, the other's a bipedal Luxray, both throwing special moves at each other.
"They're still making PokeMorphs games?" I ask.
"Huh? Oh, that. I guess so!"
She lets out another strained laugh. Figures she wouldn't know what I'm talking about. Maybe Barry's nerdiness is rubbing off on me.
Next, we tiptoe through a soft room where Pokémon sleep on beanbags and cushions. The ones that are just chilling throw me a few odd looks. I'm used to it, especially going around in my clothes.
Maisie leads me outside the exercise room, but stops just before we turn the corner.
"So, Glen, are you ready for Dex's big day out?"
"Of course."
"Good, he's been looking forward to seeing you." Her cheery expression fades as she looks me up and down.
"Something the matter?"
"No, no, it's–" she sighs. "Never mind. I know he's in good hands. Just wish there was more I could do to help."
A daycare's a stopgap for trainers to drop off their Pokémon, not a home. That's the whole reason I'm here. Before I can think of some way to reassure her, that Arcanine rushes in, his coat all unkempt.
"First aid!" he says in his own tongue. From the drop in Maisie's posture, she knows exactly what he meant.
"Nuts," she says. "Glen, go in there without me."
Maisie rushes off, leaving me with my own thoughts.
This daycare isn't a terrible place for Pokemon, but Dex probably doesn't know anybody here since daycare Pokemon don't linger for long, except the rentals. If Dex runs out of options, then he'll probably need to become a rental Pokemon too.
The world doesn't make it easy for Pokemon to live without a trainer. It took me ages to find my place in it, and I had to figure out what that was on my own. I'm not gonna put Dex through what I went through.
There's all sorts of equipment dotted around the gym's floor: punching bags, weights, even a couple of treadmills, and Dex is pounding a training dummy right in the middle of the room. He doesn't notice me as I step inside, though I'm just curious to watch his moves. I don't know what that dummy did to hurt him but the little Machop's just whaling on it. He only stops when the dummy falls flat on its back, thudding against the linoleum, and Dex has to take a few deep breaths, buckling to his knees.
I wait for him to catch his breath, but he keeps panting, past the point that I can chalk it up to tiring himself out.
"Hey," I call, stepping in.
Dex turns. His eyes look redder than a Machop's usually should. Words fail me, so I sit with him, giving Dex as long as he needs to get back up to speed. Work can wait.
He falls back to steady breaths and stands back up, at eye level with me. He seems calm, though his body's still tense, like whatever's bothering him has its claws hooked deep into his spine. Then he bounces on his feet, raising his fists.
I back away, worried he's about to give me a knuckle sandwich until he flashes a smile, still in his battle stance. Maybe the kid just wants to playfight. I know Dex'll feel better for it, even if I'm not rushing to school a Machop, so I hold my hands out like a boxing coach. Dex responds with one punch, then a one-two punch. One, one-two, one, one-two. Then he stops and nurses his hands.
"I was tryin' to say hi," he finally says.
Now I get it. That's the greeting we used in our dwelling: one punch was what they used to start a conversation, and a one-two punch meant 'hello'. It's a way for us fighting types to talk without words, something I forgot long ago.
"Sh–" I trail off–"oot. Sorry, kid."
"It's okay." Dex glares outside the gym. "Nobody here knows anyway."
"But I can learn. Or relearn." I shrug. "So how's it going?"
"Okay, I guess. Just bored. I don't like it here."
"They're treating you alright?"
"Yeah, but… I dunno. Everyone's so loud here."
"Well, we've got a full day today." I offer a hand. "We'll start out at the Mach n'Van, and you can see what it's like working there. You'll see plenty of Circhester in between." I pause, figuring out how to introduce him to Barry. "Then we'll have dinner at my place. Anything you fancy?"
Dex's eyes gleam. "Anythin'?"
"Yeah. I dunno, did they do any cooking in your dwelling?"
He glares at me. "How else would we eat stuff?"
Another faux pas. Man, I am out of my depth here.
"Bunnelby stew," Dex continues. "My… parents hunted them. They hunted a lot. But Bunnelby stew's my favourite. With onions. Master Pillar grew a lot of vegetables."
The pained look on his face twists my stomach. He's already told me about his parents, who died on a big hunt, quite carelessly from the sounds of it as they liked to throw themselves into danger. Typical fighting types. It's beyond me who Master Pillar is, but that's a good conversation to have later.
"We can do Bunnelby stew. With onions."
Dex stares at my hand a moment longer, and finally shakes it before following me out of the daycare. He doesn't say bye to anyone on the way, and Maisie only gives a thumbs up as she's applying a potion on a bruised Pokemon, so I take Dex straight to the car. I sit in the front seat, but Dex doesn't follow. What's he doing out there? I open the side he's supposed to enter.
"I've never been in a car before," he says.
Right. I shouldn't have taken that for granted.
"Just climb up to the booster seat and I'll strap you in."
Dex takes to it well enough, and I lean from the front to fasten his seatbelt. He paws at the leather strap.
"This feels weird," he says.
"It'll feel weird, yeah, but it's for your own safety. You'll go flying out the window otherwise."
Dex tries to make himself comfortable as I start the drive. I don't think Dex is quite ready for my music, so I stick the radio on. Not that Dex is paying much attention to the cheesy pop song on there since he's gazing out the window. Don't tell me you're bored already, kid.
"How'd you get a car?" Dex says, eyes fixed on the farmland that whizzes past our view. "Aren't those for humans?"
That sort of question would piss me off coming from a human, but of course a Machop like him would be curious. "Well, I learned to drive a while ago, just for work, then I earned enough to buy this beaut." I pat the wheel with pride.
"But how? I didn't know we could do that."
"A human taught me."
That satisfies Dex for now. Good. I don't fancy reliving that chapter of my life, though it wasn't all bad. Maybe I owe Terry a text; he'd like to see how far I've come.
"Why would I wanna learn how to drive?"
I hum in reply. I never stopped to think about it too deeply; it's just second nature to me. I take in the scenery before me. The air from the parted window gently blows across my face. The road opens up to a far-away view of Circhester's sandstone buildings, and clouds of many different shades of grey line the sky.
"I didn't have much choice at the time, but I got a real taste for it. I travelled all through Galar, saw things that would make you weep, listened to a lot of good music, stopped at some really good eateries on the way too."
I think about all the humans I hooked up with on the way, but Dex doesn't need to know that, and it's ancient history now. What happens on the road stays on the road.
"More than that, though," I continue, "I felt free."
"Free?"
"Yeah. You could wait for flying taxis or trains to herd you around, but going places on your own is a whole different beast."
Dex pauses, taking his sight away from the window.
"Do I have to learn to drive too if I wanna stay with you?"
"Don't be daft." I sigh. The kid doesn't even realise how much freedom he has as a Pokémon. All he's known is the path laid out for him by his parents and trainers, just like I used to. "That's the point, you can choose what you want to do. It's your life."
"My life." Dex turns to the window again. We're stuck in traffic since we've reached central Circhester again. I'm definitely late. Oh well, might as well soak in the scenery.
On the main street, that Toxtricity busker noodles on a guitar plugged into his chest with crocodile clips. He gets lots of weird stares from humans, not that the busker usually picks a great time to practise his riffs, but Dex leans against the window, smearing his hands against the glass.
"Woah!" Dex's eyes gleam. This is the first time he's brightened up like this. "He's good!"
"You like that?"
"Yeah! It's kind of like what Master Pillar plays, but weirder and cooler!"
"And this Master Pillar is?"
"She's a Conkeldurr. Master Pillar makes guitars and stuff."
"So music runs in the dwelling?"
"Not really, just her. But she plays all these old tunes. I like it but I wish it was more like this." He smiles at me. "Can it go any louder?"
I roll Dex's window down so he can better hear the busker. The way he bobs his head to the Toxtricity's strumming reminds me of being in the mosh pit. I have a good feeling I'll love Dex.
As we drive, Dex regales me with tales back home of Master Pillar. She showed the kid how to make a guitar from pieces of driftwood and Spinarak silk, and temporarily took care of Dex when his folks passed away, just before he got sent off for his rite of passage as a Machop. I think Barry would be glad to hear Dex is a dab hand at instruments too.
I take extra care up the slope leading up to the base. I wouldn't usually think about the 'Stantler X'ing' signs on each side of the road, but since Dex is with me, I'm on extra alert. Damn feral Pokemon. Fortunately, the home stretch passes with ease. As I pull into the driveway, the eyes of the whole Mach n' Van team burn into me through the window.
"They look mad," Dex says.
"Because I'm late."
"Oh. Sorry."
"Don't sweat it. Besides, they'll change their tune when they see you."
I get out of the car and face the music.
"This anklebiter better be worth holding us up," Hammer grumbles.
"He will be." I undo Dex's seatbelt, setting him loose. He stares at the team, and they stare back with varying degrees of curiosity.
"Hey, lil fella," Hammer says, waving all four hands. He gets down on his knees and holds out his fists, which Dex pounds, one, one-two. Their conversation gets lost in the flurry of punches, but by the end of their 'chat', both Hammer and Dex are full of smiles.
I should be thanking Hammer for handling that well, but something about that exchange touches a nerve. What does he know that I don't? I try to park that as best as I can.
"What's your name?" Hammer asks.
"Dex. We say it like–" Dex bats Hammer's side with the flat of his right hand. That, I recognise: useful, handy, dexterous. Hammer repeats the same gesture.
"Dex, I'll try not to work you to the bone today, but we've got a couple of places to move stuff to." He gestures to the rest of the crew. "You won't be alone, though. I bet Glen'll help you out too."
Hammer throws me a particularly smug look. It would get on my nerves any other day, but I need to act like a good role model for Dex.
"Sure, I'll help."
"Good. Now can we move it before we get our butts kicked for being late?"
I can't agree more. Everyone gathers inside the van and I bring the booster seat so Dex can sit in the back with the rest of the crew. It's only fair to him so he has company, and it doesn't turn too many heads, though Hammer gives me another one of his funny looks like he's trying to find out all my secrets.
It's hard to contribute to the crew's conversation while I'm driving, but it all sounds cordial enough. I hear slithers of questions directed towards Dex and where he came from, and Dex asks questions of his own. Rip talks Dex's ears off about his fledgling boxing career, and one Machoke who's just visiting for the week tells him that he's working at the Mach n' Van while his trainer's seeing his family. From Dex's low tone, it hits a little close to home, but Hammer changes the subject and asks if Dex has anything else planned with me today.
"He says we'll have Bunnelby stew at his place."
"Sounds good!" Hammer says. "I do a mean stew myself, though stir fries are my favourite. Have you ever had noodles before?"
"What are noodles?"
"They're made of wheat, kind of like pasta. They're pretty popular in Kanto, and you can cook 'em in all sorts of sauces."
"Sounds cool."
"They are! Heck, I could do it sometime if you wanted."
They're getting along just fine. I dare say, Hammer's more of a dad than me, which isn't great news. It's a good thing we're just about to stop at our first pickup so they don't get too chummy yet.
"We're almost here," I say. "Get ready, all of you."
We stop outside a block of flats situated just outside the city centre. Thankfully it's a ground floor flat, and it's already nicer than mine by virtue of having a garden, though the grass is all overgrown. It's a lot roomier as well if the size of the window is any indication. I buzz the doorbell and wait for our client to come out, but nobody answers. I press it a few more times. Still no dice.
"For fu–" I stop as soon as I remember Dex is behind me. I don't think his innocent Pokemon ears can comprehend swears yet, let alone the human language. Whatever, I'll just ring whoever we're supposed to be moving stuff for.
"Mmm?" a Pokemon's voice bellows.
"It's the Mach n' Van service. We've been outside for, like, five minutes."
Stomps resound from inside the flat, and the front door swings open to reveal a headphone-wearing Snorlax that takes up the whole freaking door frame. She's wearing a crumb-encrusted Pokemon Unite shirt, probably owed to the massive Pokemunch crisp packet stuck to her paw. I don't know what the phone's doing in her other claw.
"Hey." She yawns. "You were late, so I just took a nap."
"Sorry about that." I can't blame her for being, well, a Snorlax. "Is everything sorted?"
"Yeah. A human cleaner came by earlier."
I'd like to ask if she owns the place, and how she can afford it on top of a cleaner as a Pokemon. Quite frankly, I'm jealous as hell, but I've worked this job long enough to not let that consume me. "Thank you, we'll take care of it from here."
"Cool. Do you mind if I stream this?"
Oh, now it makes sense. I turn to the rest of our crew. Save for Dex, who probably thinks she's talking about a narrow river, everyone else shrugs. "Go for it."
She turns around and waddles indoors. "Wow, chat's really popping off right now. Oh, someone donated. Thanks. You get one gold star. Someone's asking…"
Her voice trails off as she disappears into her flat. We follow in after her and split the work into teams. Me and Dex handle the bedroom's boxes, mostly lamps, a Tangela-looking monstrosity of bunched-up wires, plushies and all sorts of nerdy paraphernalia.
"Do I just pick up one of these?"
He goes for the box containing a beefy tower of a desktop computer. He has a difficult time lifting it, not that I can blame him as it's half his size.
"It's not too heavy, is it?" I ask.
"No. I can't grip it. Sorry, it's–"
I step in before the kid panics, and kneel down to take the burden off his hands. "You just have to grab both corners and keep it tucked to your chest. Don't use too much of your back or you'll strain it. Got it?"
He manages this time, though he can just barely see as the box almost covers his face. "Now what?"
"Follow me."
I take my time, lifting another box to demonstrate. I'm worried he'll trip and fall, but he follows my lead, and moves his first box from the flat into the van.
"Did I do good?" he asks.
"Yeah." I don't let him bask in his own glory too much as there's more work to do. "One down, plenty more to go."
The job goes smoothly with him around. Dex is the type of Machop I like working with. He keeps his head down, does his job, and asks the right questions, unlike some Machoke who've shadowed me before, either whining about too much work or wasting my time with inane bullshit like whichever team's winning the Galar League Championships.
The work for the next couple of hours goes smoothly. We don't make too much small talk with our client once we finish the job, as the Snorlax is content to take a nap in her new, nicer apartment in the city centre. It works well for us since it's lunchtime, and the nearest Gremms isn't too far from here so I don't even have to move the van.
"How'd you feel about that, Dex?" I ask as we walk through Circhester's streets. "Hopefully it wasn't too boring picking up those boxes."
"I like it," Dex chirps. "It's not like fightin', but it's nice. And I'm helpin' too."
"Some real weird client, though," Hammer says. "I asked her what she does and she told me she films herself sleeping, eating, or playing those computer games. I'd love to get paid to do that."
"What, and laze around all day?" Rip grumbles. "That sounds lame."
"She was talkin' to herself a lot," Dex says. "And what's she eatin'?"
"They're dried potato snacks," I reply. "You'll get to try them some day. We're heading somewhere you can get them right now."
We enter the automatic doors to the takeaway food kiosk. To me and the rest of the crew, it's cheap food that fills our guts. Dex, however, seems awestruck with how much choice there is since he's standing in the middle of the queue without realising it. I gently move him to the sandwich aisle.
"So humans just come here and get 'em?" he asks.
"And some Pokemon." Aside from our crew who takes their time picking what they want, there's a suited-up Inteleon with a briefcase who walks out the door with a takeaway coffee. "Though we still have to pay for them."
"I know that." He looks at all the shelves chock full of pasties and pastries. "But this is so much stuff. This could feed everyone back home."
He's got a point; add that to the list of things I take for granted. "None of it gets wasted. Now what do you want? My treat for your hard work."
"Really?" He perks back up. "Um, I dunno, you pick!"
He trusts me. I give him the lot: a BLT, an oran smoothie and even throw in a leppa-flavoured Wyndon bun. As we eat in a small park outside, I watch Dex tear into his sandwich. I don't expect him to be blown away by it, but his eyes glisten with each bite he takes, doubly so as he demolishes his dessert.
"Not too bad, huh?" I say, in between bites of my coronation sandwich.
"Mine didn't come with a fork," Rip says, staring at his pasta.
"Don't you eat with your hands?" Dex asks.
"After they've touched that Snorlax's grubby settee? No way."
"Your fork'sth in the packathing," Hammer says in the middle of chewing his Turffish pasty. He's got such an annoying habit of talking with his mouth full.
"Right, boss. Swear I was going nuts."
"They don't make it easy to find, though," I say.
"No kidding. Say, Dex, want some?"
"Sure!"
Dex eagerly takes a bite of Rip's pine nut pasta. Group lunches aren't uncommon for us, but I usually eat in silence or use our time off as an excuse to go for a smoke. Somehow, with Dex around, I feel at ease eating with the crew. It doesn't hurt that the sun's come out now and this park's not too shabby with a nice view of the water fountain in the centre.
When was the last time me and Barry just took a stroll around this area? Not since before his promotion. And there's a guy walking past that looks suspiciously like…
Shit, it's Barry. He takes out his headphones, but doesn't wave at me. He just stares.
I want to come up and hug him. I want him to tell me about his work day so far and share lunch with me since I know he's on his break. I want to treat him to a coffee to help him get through his shitty job. But I can't. Not in front of my team.
How do I play it off? Do I just wave at him and pretend he's a friend? That would be a lie. But this whole relationship we have is built around lying to everyone. I'll do it. I'm raising my hand.
"Look at that weirdo staring at us," Hammer snarls.
"Shut the hell up, Hammer," I snap.
That turns everyone's heads. Shit, I shouldn't have said that. Now everyone's looking at me like I'm the weirdo. Even Dex. Seeing him confused and afraid at something I've said makes my heart drop down to my stomach.
"I, I mean–" I stammer, trying to salvage my outburst somehow–"shut up, Hammer. Maybe that weirdo won't notice us if we don't say anything. That's what I meant."
It's a shit excuse, but that doesn't matter as Barry's disappeared, probably gone back to work. I really hope he didn't see me acting out like that, but now he's gone, our team should be the way it was before, right?
"Yeah." Hammer's smile doesn't entirely reach his eyes. "You're right. Good thinking, Glen."
The rest of our lunch passes in silence. I try to chalk it up to soaking in the park's serenity, but the quiet continues in the van on the way to our next pickup. Not even the radio can fill it.
I know I screwed up. The crew knows it. Dex knows it too since he's not his usual, curious self. Never before have I so badly craved a cigarette. It's the longest I've been without one in a while, just a few hours. But the pack's back in my own car. I can't just stop at the nearest shop and get some more as a Pokemon.
My clammy hands slip on the leather wheel. I'm such an idiot. There were so many other ways that could've played out. I should've known he'd cross by that park at noon. I should've just said 'hi', or not acknowledged him at all, or at the very least not swear at Hammer.
I take deep breaths, one two, one two. It's okay. The moment will pass when we start our next job. The crew will forget once they start packing boxes, I'll bury my frustration in my work as I always do, I'll say sorry, then we can put it behind us.
It's not long before we reach the other pickup: a semi-detached house in one of the central neighbourhoods. The family that greets us, the dad, mum and their two sons, look like they're ripped from a postcard, all full of smiles. Even their Boltund's a ray of goddamn sunshine, sitting on his hindquarters while he lolls his tongue.
"Hey, nice to finally meet you!" the woman greets. "I've heard so many good things about Mach n' Van!"
"Good. We won't disappoint, ma'am." From her vice-like grip to her smart-casual clothes, I feel like she's about to sell us her own house. "Is everything ready?"
"Have you two packed all your toys?" she asks her pre-teen kids who nod in unison. Has she brainwashed the little runts or something?
"Crap," her husband pipes up, dressed in a Circhester Football Club jersey, "I left my phone on charge in the house."
"Harold, go get it before we leave it behind," the woman commands.
"Yes, ma'am!" He rushes back in. That's another minute or two before we can get a move on. The Boltund approaches Dex. Dex recoils as if he's preparing for a fight. I'd do the same if a freaking thunderbolt-flinging hound sized me up.
"Yes, yes, Machop!" he greets, extending his paw. "Give my ears a good scritch!"
Dex cautiously brings his hand up to the Boltund's head, and chuckles as the Boltund grunts under his grasp. I kneel down and scritch his other ear, hoping it scores some Dad points in Dex's eyes. The fur feels what I'd imagine TV static to feel like. Dex glances at me briefly, and smiles before he turns his attention back to the loyal little doggy.
We don't have too long before the dad comes out and we can start doing our job. The crew don't even look at me as they enter the house. I turn to Dex, who stops stroking the Boltund to massage his hand.
"You can join them if you want," I say. "I can handle the other boxes myself."
"It's okay," Dex says. "I'll help you."
So I haven't pissed him off yet. Good. We start with the kids' bedroom, clearing out boxes of plushie Pokemon and clothes.
"Don't you like Hammer?" Dex asks.
I freeze, almost dropping the two boxes I'm carrying. "It's not that."
"Then why'd you shout at him?"
I take a deep breath and set the boxes aside.
"Look. It's complicated. Me and Hammer have been working together for a while, and sometimes he gets on my nerves. I'm sure you have people like that in your life."
"Maybe." Dex puts his box aside too and rubs his shoulder. "But he wasn't doing anythin' wrong. That human was weird."
I'm not going to be short with Dex, as annoyed as I am by the whole situation. "Alright, this will all make sense later. Can you trust me on this?"
Dex stares at a white patch on the wall where a poster used to be. The crew's footsteps echo from downstairs.
"Something you need to understand is that me and Hammer aren't friends. We work together, but we don't really know each other, and I like to keep my life separate from his. You'll understand when you work long enough."
"We don't really know each other."
The kid's too sharp for his own good. "Well, I wanna know more about you, Dex. And I want to share my life with you." I smile. "You know that music the Toxtricity was playing? I listen to that sort of stuff all the time. I see whole bands like that too."
Dex tilts his head at me. "Really?"
"Yeah. I hope you can join me for a gig some time. There's so much I wanna show you too."
I know I shouldn't do this but I rummage through the boxes and find a plushie of a caped Greninja.
"That's a Pokemon," Dex states.
"That's not just any Pokemon, that's Long Legged Larry, the Greninja." I give another forced smile. "He's a superhero that fights crime. They've made all sorts of shows and movies about him."
"What's crime?"
I have a lot to teach this kid, not that I hope he ever comes across someone robbing a bank or worse. "Bad people doing bad things."
"Oh."
"Yeah, oh. But it's fun to see him getting justice too." I fling the plushie up in the air and catch it. "And jumping over skyscrapers; really tall buildings."
I thought Dex would want to play with him, but he just stares at his feet.
"There's so much here. It's so confusin'."
"You'll get the hang of it." I shove Larry back in the box. "Now c'mon, we need to get a move on before the rest think we're slacking. Okay?"
Dex picks up the box in front of him and nods. I don't know if he feels any better by the end of our talk, but he loses himself in the work, and soon enough, we both fill the van. The family tails us to their new house in their own car, which looks identical to the one they just moved out from, except it's in a suburban area further from the city. I can't say it's an upgrade since there isn't much here except rows upon rows of houses painted a blinding white, but again, I keep my judgments to myself.
As we unload the boxes, all the carrying and bending over I've done in the day catches up with me, to the point Dex outpaces me. This time, I don't feel so guilty about taking a breather by the van. On instinct, I bring out my phone to the tune of four text messages from Barry.
B: 'How's it going with Dex? I wanted to call you to see how you were getting on but figured you were busy.' - 10:09AM
I like how he types everything like he probably does at work, all spell-checked and clear to read. No annoying text-speak.
B: 'Fuck my boss, seriously. He didn't end up using the printouts and blamed me for wasting our charity budget.' - 11:15AM
He also sent a gif of a Pangoro snapping an office keyboard in half. It still surprises me how blunt he is behind a screen.
B: 'I'm on my break now. What did you want me to do for dinner? Looking forward to meeting Dex.' - 12:32AM
Crap, I forgot to get back to him. I'm about to type what Dex wants when I see the last message.
B: 'Sorry I ran off, I was a bit blindsided. I didn't expect to see you at the park with your work buddies, and with Dex too. It was nice to see you earlier, but maybe warn me next time you're in our spot.' - 12:56PM
All the air goes out of me, like I've just been pricked with a pin. I know why he said it. I should've gone to literally any other place outside of our usual meeting spot. We hold both our livelihoods in our hands every time we show any sort of affection in public.
I think of all the other close calls we've had. Me and Barry have kissed in the toilets at The Cave with humans outside the cubicles. Countless times, we've had to stop ourselves from holding hands. Even when we're talking sometimes, whether it's in a cafe or in a park, he checks over his shoulder or keeps his distance, always a reminder that someone could be watching.
It was exciting at first, to feel like we're thieves about to be caught. Now, though?
My thumb hovers over the keyboard for ages until Hammer, yet again, slaps my back.
"I thought you were helping," he says. "Guess you've hit your limit."
I try to collect myself. Put those thoughts in a box, like I always have. But I just stare at Hammer, who in turn narrows his eyes.
"You still having problems with your place? That'd explain why you're acting so weird lately; landlords sound like pure evil."
He still doesn't know I've moved in with Barry. I'll just settle for the lie as usual.
"Yeah," I say at last. "They've still not fixed half the stuff there."
"Ah. I hope you get it sorted."
I stare at my boots, which shuffle against gravel. What I would give for a Sandy Numel right now.
"I'm just taking a stab in the dark here," he continues. "You and that anklebiter seem awful close. You say he's lost his parents. So… what's going on?"
That gets my attention. I want to tell him the truth, just so I can get him off my back, but the words don't come out. The thought of telling anyone is still so petrifying. All I can settle for is a half-truth.
"I want him to live with me," I say. "I want to raise him as my own."
Hammer whistles. "That's… surprising. Never pegged you as the dad type."
"Meaning what?"
"You're usually… you know, a bit of a sourpuss."
"Well screw you too."
"You don't mince words, do you? But I see you lighten up a lil' around him. That's a good thing."
I snort. "Thanks, I guess."
"But…" His tone drops. "Glen. I know you don't want to hear it, but your crummy flat, as you once put it, ain't a good place for him. He's gonna be miserable cooped up there, especially if that human's being a pain in the rear."
He talks as if he knows anything about my life, or Dex's. All I can give is a grunt in reply.
"He can stay at our house until you get your place sorted or move somewhere else. But it's gonna be tough. Tough for you, and tough for him, especially in the city. It just ain't made for beasts like us."
"I know." That's all I'll say.
"Alright." Hammer pats my shoulder and keeps it there. He tries to look at me, though I try to turn away. I can see myself reflected in his eyes and I hate how pathetic I must look. "Just ask yourself if it's something you both want. Take it easy, Mister Puff Puff."
Hammer finally gets back to his work. I don't. I stay with my back against the van. Dex is rushing to move the boxes into the house. Rip matches his pace. It seems like they're in a race to pack stuff away the quickest, judging by the smiles on their faces.
Meanwhile, the family carefully plays football on one side of the garden. The parents cheer their kids on as they act as the goalies on opposite teams. Both sons tackle each other as two Machoke would tackle each other in a fight. All in good fun. The eldest shoots, scores, and the parents pull him into a tackle hug, not caring that the grass is staining their clothes and the Boltund's licking their faces.
Again, I try to think of the good times me, Dex, and Barry will spend together. But neither the Mach n' Van crew nor the human family has anything to hide. Me and Barry do.
What's the worst that could happen with us together? Dex would be taken away. Both our jobs would be ruined. Not only that, Barry would probably be thrown in jail. I'd just be tossed aside as the victim, as if I had no say in the matter, and find another job somewhere else to start on a clean slate. But the best?
All I can see is that Dex will live his whole life keeping up a lie that we've forced upon him.
I retreat back into the front seat of the van, just staring out of the window that gives way to the rest of the suburbs, all human-owned, all middle class. Deep breaths, one two. Deep breaths, one two three four. It doesn't work. I claw at my pockets. There's nothing there. No release from this. Nothing to guard me from myself.
I want Dex to live a normal life, not like I did. But nothing about me and Barry is normal. Even Dex's good memories would all be tainted by our lie, like the specks of mold in our cozy little flat.
There's no way this is going to work. Not when Barry doesn't want us to be seen. Not when Dex needs other kids, Pokemon, hell, anyone else to play with that isn't us. The only right decision I can make, for Barry's sake, for Dex's sake, is to call it off.
I stay there until the crew trickles in, one by one. I see Dex in the rear-view mirror; he's looking into it too. Looking at me, I imagine. Can he tell what I'm thinking?
"Uh, can we go home already?" Rip asks. "I wanna practise my right hook."
Right. This is my job. I can do that. I start the van and drive out of these depressing suburbs. To think it's evening already. The clouds have cleared up, giving way to an orange, pink sky. It does nothing to clear my mood. The rest of the drive goes by in a daze, and so does the chatter behind me, something about how excitable the Boltund was. Dex joins in too and laughs at one of Hammer's lame dad jokes. He enjoys being around them.
That's it. He'll have a much better shot at the Mach n' Van. I'll give him that offer, at least. That way, I can still see him. My plan becomes clearer the closer we head to the house.
My phone rings. I know it's Barry from the custom ringtone that plays: a riff from Groudon's Blood by Thousands of Dead Legendaries. I can't talk to him in front of my crew, so I let it die out.
"What the heck was that noise?" Rip asks.
"Glen's phone," Hammer says on my behalf. "It plays all sorts of weird stuff."
"It sounds cool!" Dex chimes in.
Something wet pricks behind my eyeballs, but I blink it away, like I've always done. I'm so sorry, kid.
We finally make it back to the home base. Most of the crew sprint into the fields, as they usually do. Only Hammer and Dex are left.
I take a deep breath. I know this'll suck. But this has to be done.
"Hey, Dex." I wipe away whatever's left of my tears and smile at Dex, whose feet sway from the booster seat. "How'd you find today?"
"It was cool! You get to do this every day?"
"Yeah. We go to all sorts of places." I hum. "Say, what do you want to do now?"
"Bunnelby stew?"
I sigh. I know Dex will feel somewhat betrayed.
"Hammer's a good cook, isn't he?"
"Yeah," Hammer chimes in. "Actually, we should have enough stuff for stew. Not sure I have Bunnelby, though."
Dex looks at Hammer, then back to me. His feet stop kicking. "I thought we were gonna go to yours."
"I know." There's still an opportunity to change my mind. But I can't hedge this. That would just give him false hope. I've given enough of it already. "Listen, kid, plans have changed. I'm not sure it would be good for you to stay around mine. I think the Mach n' Van will be better for you. You enjoy it here, right?"
Dex looks over at the other Machoke roughhousing in the garden. "I do."
"Then I'm sure Hammer will have a spot for you."
"Of course." Hammer hums. "Dex has been a great help today."
"And I'll still come and see you. I just–" I falter, trying to think of what to say next. It all sounds like an excuse when it's not. "You're great, kid. I want to see you happy. I think this will be a good next step for you. And if you get sick of it, we can find something else for you to do. How's that sound?"
Dex looks back at me again. He doesn't seem lost. He's taking this rather well, in fact, but it doesn't make me feel any less guilty.
"Good," he says. "Can I stay?"
"Room and board," Hammer says. "You can even help me with the ingredients if you want."
"Have you got onions?" Dex asks.
"What's a stew without onions?" Hammer reaches over to pat Dex on the shoulder, like he does with me. "Now, if you wanna join them, I'll be right there with you."
Dex nods, then his face drops. He opens his mouth, then closes it and undoes his seatbelt. He runs out and pounces into the fray, like there's a dual battle going on.
Hammer stays behind. He reaches for my shoulder when I recoil. His back hunches, then he steps out of the van and slams the door shut, joining the rest.
That's it. I've washed my hands of this. Now I just want to go home, away from these other Machoke. I collect my pay and don't even look back at the rest as I get back into my own car. I check my phone. Of course, it's Barry. One missed call and one new message:
B: 'Just finished work, good riddance. I guess you're still busy, so that's fine. Let me know what Dex wants when you can. xx.' - 5:01PM
I never answered his texts about what Dex would like for dinner, not that it matters now. I text 'dex isnt coming' and toss the phone onto the dashboard. Right away, I dive for the cigarettes in the glove box and light up.
Sweet release.