Ch. 28
Imported from SF2 with no description.
It was some hours later that I woke up. I didn’t realize I’d fallen asleep. Everything hurt, as I sat up, but I wasn’t going to lay around anymore. I didn’t even say goodbye, throwing my backpack on my shoulders, ignoring the sharp sting of the sunburn. I’d be more careful, but I couldn’t wait around anymore.
I got fifteen steps away from the door when I heard her running feet, and the bark of the growlithe chasing after me.
“You really don’t listen, do you?” She asked, offended as I looked over my shoulder. She stood there, hand on her hip and just sighed at me, her blonde hair swaying over her shoulders as she stared at me, as if expecting an explanation.
“Not often.” I admitted, with a sigh. “Look, I appreciate the help…” I trailed off, and she picked up the unspoken, holding up an admonishing finger.
“Wendy.” She filled in, and interrupted before I could finish the sentence. “And you are not going to tell me to mind my own business. I found you half dead on the side of the road. That makes it my business, got it? I already called in a huge favor just for you, so how about you stop being a jerk, and say thanks?” She scolded me, pulling a pokeball out of her pocket.
She seemed awfully proud of herself, as the rapidash took a moment to get used to the new surroundings, but when its eyes fell on her, there was a moment of pure joy and happiness shared between them. A moment of joy that immediately soured when his eyes fell on me.
“What do you think, Staccato? Willing to do me a little favor and carry this idiot and I on a long trip?” She asked, hooking her thumb over her shoulder at me.
The rapidash looked at me, and I spoke up. “Staccato, it’s a big favor. Even as fast as you could run, it’s still over mountains, along the coast, through the woods.”
Wendy interrupted me with a grin. “Yep. All over hell and creation, with both of us on your back. You’re up for the challenge, right?”
The rapidash whinnied and huffed, and though it took a moment for it to really sink in, I understood. “You know I hate being ridden by your friends!” He shook his head, hard, and tapped an impatient foot against the dirt. “Come on! You do this to me all the time! Seriously?”
I sighed, and shook my head. “You got it wrong, Staccato. It’s actually worse than that. I’m not even a friend. She picked me up on the side of the road, and absolutely insists on solving my problems. Apparently by making them yours.”
Wendy stared at me, jaw agape, and looked between the two of us as the rapidash made a sound that even without my understanding was plainly derisive laughter.
“That sounds like her.” He grumbled, openly glaring at her. “Fine. Just… Keep your hands to yourself. All her friends go on about how pretty my mane is, how lovely my tail is. I hate it.” He said, with a sigh. “You don’t look like a rider, but at least you’re not fawning over me.” He sighed again and nickered, but relented, shaking his head again. “Fine. We’ll start slow, but if you fall off, I’m going to laugh at you. If you touch my tail, I swear I’ll kick you in the teeth, and leave you to walk wherever it is you’re going.”
“Hey, you got it. Thanks, Staccato.” I replied, hands open and up in a gesture of surrender.
“Wait. Wait! you can understand him? What did he say? What… how? We’re going to have a lot of talking to do on the road!” Wendy said, pulling herself up onto his back and offering me a hand up.
I had to admit, she had an awfully good grip, and Staccato was gracious enough to squat down a little to help. It was the first time I’d ever been on a pokemon’s back, and there was something strangely comforting about it. About not having to walk until my soles, and my soul wore out.
“What she means to say, is you’re going to have a hard time shutting her up.” Staccato chimed in, as we set out away from the town, the clip-clop-clip of his trot leading us up to the road before he dipped off to follow from alongside the pavement, where he sped up to a surprisingly quick canter.
“Just because I don’t know exactly what you said, mister…” Wendy spoke up, tapping the top of Staccato’s head with an impatient finger. “Doesn’t mean I don’t know your tone.” She said, with a frustrated sigh.
“Well, it’s a long story…” I said, shaking my head. “I guess we have nothing but time…”
It was easier to talk about the training than anything else, honestly. I explained the general process, how things were. The way Claire and I talked, every day, her mind in mine, and mine doing my best to reach back, until it got easier. Until she could speak out loud and I could hear her voice.
Staccato laughed as I explained the hardships of it, the nights where our more significant training left me heaving up dinner by the side of the road. The times she managed to break me down and make me pay for losing focus.
But they both got quiet as I explained her evolution. The feedback, all consuming, agonizing, like a banshee screaming inside my skull, a feeling I knew was reflected to her, because neither of us could fully shut the other out. All of our training, all of our practice, in the end it was meaningless, because her power grew so quickly, it blindsided us both. Our bond became our curse. We couldn’t even be in the same room together.
“The only idea she had was to bring her back to her mother, and hope that there was an answer to be found there. So… So that’s why.” I said, at last, giving Staccato a pat on the side. “I’m in your debt. Both of you. She… means more to me than you could ever know.”
He huffed at that, but didn’t protest, instead picking up the pace. The wind in my hair was strangely relaxing, and for a few miles, Wendy was very quiet.
“You’re a good trainer.” She shook her head. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re still a jerk.” She tapped Staccato’s head, again, and giggled down at him. “You both are, and don’t you forget it!” She teased, before looking back at me. “But… I don’t know a lot of people who would literally walk themselves to death with the blind hope of being able to take care of their pokemon. Most of the people I know would pass the problem off to someone else. It’s stupid, and you’re an idiot, and you should ask for help when you need it, but… you’re a good trainer. A good guy.”
Staccato offered another derisive snort. “Oh goodie. I get to hear her fawning. Tell her if she gets flirty, I’m bucking the both of you and leaving you behind.”
I couldn’t help laughing, and when I relayed the message, she was indignant, and glowered at him. “You wouldn’t da…” She sighed, and shook her head. “You would, and that’s even worse!”
I hated to admit it, but they were kind of growing on me. I could have found myself in worse company.
Wendy warned me against it, but Staccato and I agreed it was the only way. We both wanted to be done with the journey as soon as possible, so we rode until he was ready to stop. Then we rode when he was ready to start again. We covered more ground in a day than I had in a week, even with him taking it easy.
The down side of it was I discovered muscles I didn’t know I had… and the friction burns I picked up from the ride didn’t help my mood at all. Of course, I wasn’t about to tell them that. Instead, I waited until she was asleep, and used the bandages and ointments I had left.
Staccato apologized for it, but he knew as well as I did that it was necessary, and that I’d have paid the price a hundred times over. It was that important to me.
“Who is she to you, really?” He asked, while Wendy slept. He shifted, in the sand, and stretched. “I don’t think Wendy would go this far for any of us.”
“A huge chunk of my whole world.” I replied, shaking my head. “If I’m lonely, she’s the hand holding mine. If I’m scared, she’s the light in the dark.” I chuckled quietly. “It’s stupid, I know. But the stars just don’t shine as bright without her here to see them with me. Same as the rest of them. I know how unfair I’m being to them. I hope they can forgive me.”
“Sounds like you’re in love.” He said, a teasing note in his voice. “Well, your secret’s safe with me. It’s not like Wendy knows what I’m saying anyway.” He paused, looking me over in the appraising way he often did. “You might be one of the better strays she’s ever brought home. But don’t tell her I said that.”
“You’re not wrong.” I admitted, with a sigh. “But I appreciate you keeping it to yourself. I … we both know how unfair some parts of life can be.” I added, with a sigh. “Seems only yesterday we were talking about finding a place all our own.”
“I can’t judge.” Staccato said, softly. “I… well maybe I’m not, anymore. But I used to be. With her, you know?” He said, looking over his shoulder. “I’m hard on her, but she’s a good girl. Sweet, and gentle when she can be. This… trip of hers has changed her. I don’t think for the better. I miss how she used to be.”
He shook his head, mane swaying with the motion. “Obviously, it wasn’t going to happen. I knew that. I just… wished she hadn’t left me behind. Even if it meant being in a pokeball for weeks at a time, I just wished she would have kept me around.”
I sighed at that, reaching up to put a hand on his shoulder. “You have what might be a once in a lifetime chance to really talk to her. Don’t let it pass you by. Tomorrow, let’s start slow, and I’ll tell her all the things you want me to.”
“I don’t even know if I want to.” He more grumbled than said. “I mean… she left me behind for a reason. She calls for me when she needs me. She doesn’t call for me because she wants me.” He replied, bitterly. “I love her, I do. But I think… “ He paused, and I nudged his shoulder. “I think our friendship broke a long time ago. Mostly I just can’t bring myself to tell her no.”
“So…” I paused, turning to look him in the eye. “A bridge broke a while back, and someone came to you with carpenter’s tools.” I poked his nose. “You can be brave, and try to fix it, come what may. Or you can leave it broken, and be miserable to know you can’t ever cross that bridge again.”
“You could have just said ‘you are not going to tell me to mind my own business’.” He replied, a surprisingly good mimicry of Wendy. Apparently it was a thing she said a lot. “I don’t … what if she thinks… what if I just make things worse?”
“At least you know she will have heard how you really feel.” I said, with a nod. “Even if nothing changes, that changes everything.”
“It’s easy for you to say.” He replied, laying his head down at last. “You don’t have to live with what you learn from it.”
“You kidding?” I asked, as I stretched out next to him. “Let me tell you about the first time Claire and I were intimate.” I countered, chuckling softly.
“I’d rather you didn’t.” He replied, staring hard at me. “No. Really. You could go your whole life and never say those words again, and I’d be just fine.” He nickered at that, and stretched. “I sure am looking forward to never hearing that story.” He paused, and laid his head down. “Ever.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at that, and felt a little guilty when Wendy stirred, grumbled, and draped her arm over Penance, who sighed, shifted herself, and looked up at us as if to offer a silent complaint.
Our conversation was a little softer, a little quieter, and before long, he’d fallen asleep. Once again, I couldn’t bring myself to. I spent most of the night holding Claire’s pokeball in my hand. I knew she couldn’t hear me. I knew that… but I just kept talking to her, anyway. I looked forward to the day she'd be able to hear me. To spending a night with her beneath the stars, telling her all of my stupid little thoughts. Telling her all the little stories about the constellations. Telling her anything. I missed her so much, and it hurt so much worse that she was right there, yet impossibly far away at the same time.
It hurt too much to even cry about. I couldn't even imagine how much it hurt her.