Ch. 20
Wherein friends are made. The story continues.
Exhausted. No. More than Exhausted. Soul-crushingly defeated. The sand and dirt seemed to stretch on forever. I was constantly pulling sand and rocks out of every possible nook and cranny imaginable, and several I’d never considered, to boot.
Bruised, cut, scraped, and blistered. Battered, and fatigued. Everything hurt. But I was so damn proud of them. So damn proud.
Tempest had really started to get the hang of what I was trying to teach her, had stopped wading in, stopped just taking the first few shots for no reason. She began to approach the fights a little more guarded, calm. Taking the time to size up her opponent, and act accordingly. Of course, she was still wholly herself, and once the first few blows were traded, she basically would go ballistic on anything that wasn’t a mortal threat to her. Still, it was progress.
Claire had begun to find that she couldn’t break me as easily as before. Between my own meditation and her careful lessons, I was beginning to be a match for her, at least defensively. I couldn’t actively weaponize the way she could, but I could effectively stop her from making me feel like my head was full of hot shards of glass. It came with a curious side effect; More and more my hearing the girls talk was mine, and not just thanks to her. I wondered if the serious psychic trainers got the same. I wondered if I’d ever be able to do more.
Mira kept me smiling, despite all the miserable dry exhaustion, something about the way she kept a ribbon on me just kept me from brooding over the annoyances. It was awful hard to brood about anything with her sweet, soulful eyes and the occasional caress to pull me out of my own head. She came up with new games, and at night we’d throw stones, and just chat about everything and nothing. She’d become my constant companion.
Cocoa and I kept training. Every night. She was getting legitimately good. Her weight became her strength, and she had learned to guard her soft spots. Her tackles had started finding their marks, and I taught her how to deliver a good headbutt.
She wouldn't need to wait long to put it to use, volunteering for a one-on-one as Tempest cheered her on.
The trainer looked like a tourist, but her sandslash meant business, surging forward with broad, raking strikes. They obviously meant to give her no time to react, but they underestimated the things I’d tried to teach her, and her sheer will to learn them.
Cocoa moved into the blows, curling to deflect them before the sandslash could build momentum. The tackle didn't do much to its armored body, but her diving slam left a bigger impression. The two traded blows, but it was obvious that each time Cocoa slammed herself atop it, the sandslash was getting the worse side of the bargain.
She had the poor thing on its last legs, before she lunged in one last time, her short horns striking home, leaving her opponent in the dust.
Her happiness after the battle made all of it, every scrape, every grain of sand I had to pry out of places I'd rather not mention, every stifled yawn, and night spent uncomfortably tossing and turning to favor one bruise over another worth it.
It was infectious. We all celebrated with her. The next several miles vanished behind us, without anyone seeming to notice, bolstered by her resounding success.
We made camp that afternoon near a dry creek bed. I gave the girls a warning not to play in it. The weather forecast called for rain, and it might flood. We would need to be on watch that night. Just in case we had to get to higher ground in a hurry.
On the other hand, I hoped for a wash. Would be nice.
--Cocoa--
I reckon I never wanted the rain quite as bad as I did then. Watching those heavy, dark clouds roll in was about as pretty as a picture. Thunder, low and rolling was gonna keep us inside, I thought. But he was just full of surprises. He set up on the rocks, naked as the day he was born, and just let the rain wash over him.
Claire was sulkin’. Fussin’ somethin’ fierce ‘bout mud. Tempest kept her company, but I knew she weren’t really listenin’. Mira had fallen asleep as soon as things cooled down, but who could blame her? She was up even earlier than I was, poor thing.
So I went out to join him.
He didn't notice at first, eyes closed, face up toward the sky as the huge, heavy raindrops fell. My hand on his shoulder made him jump, and he smiled at me, movin’ over a bit to make room for me.
I could see all the bruises, and scrapes he had. Poor boy was tight as bailin’ wire. I knew I could help, so I set up behind him, kneading his tired muscles as the rain hushed the whole world around us. He almost trembled beneath my touch, and I knew it weren't nothin' to do with the sweet, cold rain. I could tell without even askin' it must'a hurt somethin' fierce for the past few days at least. No wonder he tossed an' turned at night!
He'd given us so much. Even in just the short time I'd known him. He pushed himself, every day just to keep up with us. Always made time to help us, reckoned it was the least I could do to just try an’ help him.
I could feel him leaning back into my hands. So I pushed a little harder, working my way up between his shoulders. His back popped, and I was worried I hurt him, until he sighed, tension draining away. A difference like night an' day, as he stretched his shoulder a little.
“That's the spot.” He didn't say it half as much as the words melted out of him. Never knew a boy could make a sound like that, and I’d be lyin’ if’n I said it didn’t do nothin’ for me. Shucks, he kept that up, I reckoned he’d get more’n he bargained for.
I couldn’a said where that thinkin’ came from. Weren’t like me at all. But I reckoned maybe I was changin’ for bein’ around the girls like I was. It weren’t like I objected, but I’d never really thought nothin’ like that before.
I shook off that thinkin, least then an’ there. Weren't what I'd wanted. I sighed, an’ I put my hands back to work, instead of my overactive imagination. I’d realized I never did see the girls doin’ anythin’ like that for him. Tempest would’a killed him, and Claire and Mira, bless their hearts, just weren’t nowhere near strong enough to do nothin’ like this.
I was glad it was raining. He wouldn’a seen me cryin’, if he looked up. It was somethin’ he an’ I could have. There was somethin’ a silly country girl could do, after all.
--Trainer--
You ever have a moment where you realize your life just got a whole lot better? Feeling like you were an idiot for not doing something sooner?
Cocoa getting my back to pop was one of those.
I'd been carrying that knot for days. Tossing and turning at night, trying to find a position that didn't piss my back off worse. She made it go away. Just like that, strong, confident hands up and down my back until I was practically a puddle in her arms.
She made it all stop hurting, and didn't let up for the better part of an hour. The chill had rolled in behind the rain, but my back to her belly, it was just about the warmest, sweetest place in the world.
I repaid the massage in kind, but after awhile, she took my hands and just had me hold her, while we watched the lightning and rain breathe life into the land. There was something just magical about it, too. Everything had been dull, and lifeless, but it seemed in the span of a couple of hours the whole world woke up.
The creek had filled, water ran over the stones and the dusty road was washed clean. Pokemon of all sorts came out to the water, a few quizzical glances offered to my tent while I sat up on the rocks nearby, but after a while, the whole world just went on around me, while Cocoa and I sat and watched.
The storm still hung heavy over us when we finally made our way back into the tent, I’d stiffened up from sitting there, and leaned on her a little as we crossed the muddy soil to the big, comfortable room.
It was cool, and dim, and soft and as I lay back on the sleeping bag, Cocoa sat beside me, her surprisingly talented little hands kneading over my legs. I was in and out of sleep for a little while, but her persistence finally put me to bed for the night.
--Cocoa--
“Was the most maddenin’ thing.” I’d told Mira in the dark of night. She laughed when I explained it. How it drove me right up the wall to think my cousins were right all along. There I was, sighin’ an’ blue over a boy I barely knew. In their own words, “Like a lovestarved lopunny!”
Boy, I coulda’ screamed outta spite, if it weren’t for him bein’ asleep, right next to us.
“Naked, no less. Not a hint o’ modesty. What’s a girl to think, seein’ him like that?”
Irritatin’ as it was, weren’t nothin’ for it. Weren’t his fault. He didn’t know. Even if he did, weren’t his problem, neither. Weren't his fault I couldn't shake that thinkin', an' weren't his fault I wasn't sure I even wanted to. Reckoned that was what the worst part was, I still didn’t know what I wanted. Weren’t just about bein’ touched, or held. I reckoned that was part, but that weren’t all of it. There was somethin’ missin’ and damned if I knew what it was! Ma never was one to talk about this type of thing.
Mira, she just laughed. Not unkindly, she swore she understood, but she couldn’t answer that for me, even if she knew what I wanted. Weren’t her place to, I reckoned. But she was there with me, while I sat there, frustrated at all the ways I was still just a big, dumb farm girl.
--Mira--
She’d figure it out. I couldn’t say exactly what she was feeling, but it wasn’t hard to empathize. She’d never really had anyone close to her like he was. Her whole life, she was basically invisible. Whatever she felt or thought, she knew she was just one of a hundred others just like her.
So to have someone really give her time of day? To care and to listen, and to really devote themselves to helping her? Maybe it was just the shock of it, maybe it was reactionary. But it made sense she’d be confused about how to feel.
I knew… from experience. I knew how it felt to not matter. To not matter to anyone, at all. And to go from that, to being a huge part of someone’s whole world. To have them constantly fussing at you, constantly worrying for you? I… I knew exactly how that felt, at least. I could only guess at the rest, but that much was as obvious as her udder.
If I knew him, he’d be waiting for her to figure it out, and if I knew her, she was halfway to making a decision she might want to take back later. I couldn’t tell her how to feel. But I could tell her to be careful.
“Don’t misunderstand, he’s a wonderful friend, a great lover. He’s what Claire needed, what Tempest needed. What I needed, even if I wasn’t sure at first. I couldn’t speak more highly of him. But don’t do something you’re not sure about. Trust me on that.”
I explained to her my first awkward mistakes, how long I spent wondering and doubting and feeling ashamed of myself. How it made me feel as though I were all the lesser for it, before I really understood how I felt, why I felt… and that he really did love me and it wasn’t a mistake. I didn’t realize how much that still weighed on me, but I was crying to her, before long. She listened, really listened, and held me as I spilled it all out. I felt better afterward, and I really feel like she understood. It was good to have a friend like her.
I realized, in the end, that he had waited for me. He did. He was true to his word, every step of the way. Whatever I felt... it was mine, not his. He didn't rush me, I rushed me. I built up all the pressure on myself, and I'd been doing the same thing in other ways. It was hard to admit it to myself, but even when I was having fun, I still felt like I'd disappoint everyone if I couldn't keep up. Nothing could be further from the truth, and I needed to be more aware of that.
It was quite a bit later it dawned on me that Tempest relied on me that way, at least sometimes. A moment of personal amusement in the midst of unhappy recollection.
--Cocoa--
It really painted him in a different light. He had always done his best by them, but he weren’t perfect. Hearing Mira cry, hearing the guilt and the tension in her voice, it was somethin’ I’d never expected, an’ never wanted to hear again. Knowin' him, he'd have really hated himself if he'd heard it, an' knowin' her, that was the last thing she'd ever want. This was somethin' he'd never know. She kept it from him. Kept it to herself, all this time.
Weren’t his fault, I knew. She made the choice, an’ he did his best by her. But it was obvious their love blossomed too soon for her. If he’d been anyone else, it might’ve really hurt her. In a way ain’t none of us could’a helped. It weren't his fault, but it still could’a broke her precious little heart.
Was an awful soberin’ realization. She’d told me somethin’ so hard to say ‘cause she was worried I might’a been makin’ the same mistake.
Worst part was, I knew she was right. Couldn’a said if I’d regret it or not, but it would’a happened without my thinkin’ much of it. Reckoned for his sake and for mine, I needed to figure out what it was I wanted, or at the least, be aware of what I was about to let myself do. I knew it didn’t matter half as much to me, weren’t my first rodeo, but it would’a hurt him awful bad if he thought I wanted to take it back, later.
Whatever else I got out of our talk, I knew she was my friend, an’ that at least I could be happy for.