Chapter 6

  “What’s wrong, Drilbur?”

  -

  We were back in Zuqimori’s cave home. He had kicked off his shoes, put on a snug pair of house slippers and asked me to wear my own whilst indoors. He made me follow him to the kitchen, a small and cozy room with a microwave, gas oven cooker, a tap on the wall with a steel bucket for a sink, a counter with two shelves where he kept a few cups and plates, and a cheap-looking round table with foldable legs. A pair of plastic chairs were stacked on one another by the table, and there was a single incandescent lamp in the center of the ceiling, buzzing quietly, and warmly lighting the room. The floor was hard, smoothed-over earth.

  He got busy making us coffee while Misdreavus loitered around close by. Galvantula had been left watching over the laboratory room.

  Meanwhile, I had been staring and fiddling with my new Poké-Ball like a kid at Christmas. Zuqimori noticed and told me to let the little guy out.

  “Are you sure?” I had asked. “Can’t it attack us?”

  The mad scientist continued working on the coffees, scooping spoonfuls of amazing-smelling roasted beans and pouring them into a grinder.

  “Let it out, Baruto-kun.”

  …

  Since he seemed so sure.

  Misdreavus watched me handle the Poké-Ball and screeched. Her face changed instantly and drastically. Mouth grew wide, baring fangs I never knew she had. Eyes grew large, raging with malice. The room darkened and I froze in place, feeling an almost identical sensation to sleep paralysis.

  “Missy!” A sharp bark from Zuqimori was enough to stop her. He went on to lecture her in Japanese like a disappointed, exasperated parent.

  “Sorry, Baruto-kun, I tell her many times not to use scary move on friends.”

  I had broken into a cold sweat. “That was Scary Face…” The actual move from the games. It only lowers speed in the games, but here, it made my entire body seize up, totally incapable of moving a muscle.

  “She will not do again – go ahead.”

  I gave Missy a glance from the corner of my eye, and she went, “hmph,” before looking away, pretending she wasn’t curious about what new pokémon we had brought.

  This time, I did not fumble with the ball. The way the ball vibrated when you pressed the release/ retrieve button was satisfying, and Drilbur came out in flash of light.

  Zuqimori stopped what he was doing to stare, as I held the empty ball with my finger on the top button, ready to recall Drilbur at a moment’s notice.

  Instead, its behavior was so apathetic and withdrawn that I wondered whether the act of being caught and forced inside a Poké-Ball had done something to its brain.

  -

  “What’s wrong Drilbur?”

  After a few minutes of the mole pokémon’s indifference, Zuqimori grew amused and called on Missy, speaking in Japanese. “…hai, hai,” he said at the end, shooing her towards Drilbur.

  “What are you doing?”

  Zuqimori had a curious expression on his face, caught somewhere between a frown and a smile. “Shhh, let me see…”

  *****

  Missy floated over to Drilbur. Poor thing was not very happy with his captors, and she couldn’t blame him. If she had ended up with such a foolish partner as that new human that Papa had let into the house, she was sure she would have passed on long ago.

  “My human wants to know why you are not talking…”

  Drilbur looked at Missy with a tinge of distrust.

  “That one is hitting me with bad sleeping. I don’t like.”

  Missy rocked gently, her violet-tipped tendril locks swaying majestically around her. “That one is Papa. He is good, and if you don’t like, I don’t like you.”

  Drilbur cocked his head. “Why?”

  “Because Papa is good.”

  “… I don’t see it.”

  “But if you stay with us and talk with us, you will.”

  Drilbur worked up enough bravado to peer into the bigger human’s face.

  “That one has something biting inside. It makes my nose tickle.”

  Missy swayed with giggles. “You feel it too!”

  “What is wrong with him?”

  “Papa wants to know what is wrong with you…”

  Drilbur again looked sideways, haughtily. “I am fine.”

  Missy blinked slowly. “Then will you talk with Big Child?”

  Drilbur, hesitating for a moment, glanced over at the bigger human. Even though it was bigger, it smelled younger, but there was something so off-putting and irritating about it. It wasn’t as bad, but it was like the sound of the stingers which buzzed all the time around their nectar-filled nests. Imagine that sound constantly whining around you – annoying! That’s how the pokémon felt.

  “I will play with Papa,” Drilbur replied, “but Big Child is not good. I will not play with him.”

  Missy cackled tinnily. “You are still angry about being caught…”

  Drilbur growled and yapped, “I don’t care! If I go outside, I run away.”

  Missy swam in a small loop through the air, clearly enjoying herself. “You cannot run away. Papa and Big Child can pull you into Dreaming inside the ball.”

  --- “Missy, what is it saying?” said Papa.

  Missy twirled towards Papa, looking over her non-existent shoulder back at Drilbur. “But don’t worry. Play sad and angry, and do not listen to Big Child… Papa will let you go outside, and he will not let Big Child pull you into Dreaming inside ball. I will help you.”

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  Drilbur’s eyes lit up mildly with surprise, and he grunted. “Thank you.”

  *****

  Despite seeing it in the show, it was still quite bizarre seeing Pokémon blatantly communicating like people. Two completely different species, with very different tones, not making a single sound I could understand. I knew Missy could actually talk aloud or at least say specific words it had learned (like a parrot), but with Drilbur, her voice was nothing but senseless murmurs and whispers, and the mole pokémon growled, squeaked, and grunted in response.

  I smile in awe, eager to hear Zuqimori’s translation, but when Missy hovers over to me and starts cheerily chanting, “Bad! Bad! Bad!” whilst circling around me, something tells me no translation is needed.

  She pulls in close to Zuqimori, whispering in his ear, and my self-proclaimed Pokémon Sensei nods as he listens.

  “Me?” he says at one point. “But is not for me… You must say to it that Baruto-kun is the one who catch – not me.”

  My heart starts sinking when I hear that. I mean, I’m used to social rejection and all… I mean, I’ve fed on it most my life… but when an animal, or in this case a pokémon does it, it hits different. My reaction is instinctual, honed by years of experience.

  Fine. Like I need you…

  I switch off, matching Drilbur’s aloofness.

  Missy looks a little too animated. A little too thrilled.

  I wonder what’s she’s told it… So, I ask Zuqimori.

  “What’d she say to it?”

  Zuqimori has switched on the grinder, and the noise fills the room. He speaks over it.

  “She ask why he is so quiet, and now is asking why he doesn’t like you…”

  “Oh… Well, you shot him – we tricked and captured him. Maybe he doesn’t want to be here?”

  Zuqimori gave a tiny shake of the head. “No, Baruto-kun. Pokémon-Ball is harmless and good for Pokémon. Many, many researches and studies have been made for long time,” he explains. “All pokémon is knowing what happens outside of Pokémon-Ball and is knowing if catcher is good person for it. This little Dirirubura tell Missy that he want me to be his trainer.”

  “How is being caught in a ball good?” I ask, suddenly more aware of the reality of things. “PETA would go nuts if they heard that,” I mutter jokingly.

  Zuqimor holds out his finger. “Remember, Baruto-kun, I am your Pokémon wa-”

  “Pokémon world sensei, yeah…”

  He nods. “Yes. And I tell you to throw all rubbish knowledge from old warld.”

  I make a face at him. “You said rubbish from Ken and Satoshi – not the entire planet.”

  He’s wagging his hand at me.

  “We have Pokémon warld!” He raises his right hand.

  “We have warld for Japan!” He raises his left hand. “Ingurando, Supain… Amerikans… all living here.” He shakes said hand.

  He crosses his arms in an ‘X’. “Different warlds!”

  To highlight his point, he taps the button on the grinder, switching it off, and begins talking in Pokénglish. “You will understand soon, boy. Society here is similar but fundamentally different. The humans of this world are in a totally different league – and it’s thanks to Pokémon.”

  The knot in my brain begins to tighten, but I do my best to not let it show on my face.

  “…Likewise, pokémon reach incredible heights thanks to their bonds with humans!” he cries out dramatically. “The Poké-Ball is this world’s greatest invention, Bartholomew. The single most impactful machine ever conceived and created by mankind. Do not mix up the Old World’s ideologies with this one’s. You are comparing cherries and pechas! A futile thing to do!”

  “R-right, I-I think I understand.”

  He laughs. “I think you are uncomfortable. But you need to know that if the Poké-Ball was truly an evil, it would not exist today.”

  As I begin to wince, I catch Drilbur pawing at the floor, scraping it with its giant claws. Is he testing the earth?

  “Baruto-kun,” Zuqimori says in Japanglish. “I learn much in my many, many years here. Satoshi and Ken did not make up legends… Powerful Pokémon with power of gods roam this warld, and it is very, very easy for them to stop Pokémon-Ball – but they do not!”

  I rub at my temple, trying to consider his words as the knot begins to loosen. I have no response but, “Why don’t they?”

  “Hwa!” he huffs dismissively, switching the grinder back on, “When you question the thinking of gods, Baruto-kun, you can become very, very crazy.”

  I get the feeling that he’s done exactly that. And done it a lot.

  Missy approaches Zuqimori again, coming close and whispering into his ear, and his eyebrows spring up and remain there, crinkling his forehead.

  “What is it – what is she saying?”

  Zuqimori ignores me, instead addressing Drilbur in Japanese. What he’s saying doesn’t sound very kind, but Drilbur doesn’t react, probably because it doesn’t understand a word of it.

  When the grinder is done grinding, Zuqimori reaches into the shelves for two cups and puts them on the counter.

  “This Mogurew is very foolish, Baruto-kun. Missy is saying that it is insulting us – but mostly you. He says you smell very, very bad. But it is not true, do not worry – you smell very OK.”

  What the fuck.

  “However, when pokémon is start relations with bad behavior, it is not good partner… tsk. We will keep for more days and see if it can change, but this is bad sign.”

  He was right, the little guy hated my guts for some reason. We spent that first night separated. I slept in the room Zuqimori put me in when I was unconscious, and it slept in a Poké-Ball in the lab room, under the unblinking eyes of Garuvan the Galvantula. It was even sort of my idea, as I felt creeped out by the thought that it could watch me sleep whether it was inside its Poké-Ball or not.

  The whole thing bothered me more than I thought it would. Wasn’t it kind of a bummer that the very first pokémon you caught wanted nothing to do with you? I sat up against the headboard of my bed that night, ruminating everything and coming to grips with the reality that my life was now radically different.

  If little less than a week had gone by already, then I was sure that Mom had already gone through the worst of it – probably. I wondered if I had a appeared in the local news back home or had missing posters put up for me. Even thoughts about my professional and dedicated personal trainers, Duncan, Morris, and Caleb crossed my mind, and how they felt about suddenly losing their biggest client.

  Funny how it all felt like a lifetime ago. I was different. My body had changed – my mind had changed.

  “Even my stutter is gone…?” I had been too preoccupied with everything, but I had noticed that I was barely tripping over my words anymore. Maybe getting zapped with millions of volts had done something to my brain… I hoped it stayed that way.

  I was still Bart Raileigh, but the Bart I had been back in Thunder Bay felt like some cousin you saw once while growing up, then never again – you know you’re related, but you’re pretty much strangers.

  “Maybe this is what being body-snatched feels like…”

  Two days later, Drilbur has opened up a little, but only to Zuqimori. It still refuses to give me any attention beyond sizing me up to when I get too close.

  Zuqimori isn’t happy about it and keeps putting it to do some odd and meaningless clean-up duties under Missy’s supervision. For example, when we eat stuff with wrappers on it, like ready meals and pot noodles (which Zuqimori is well stocked up with), he intentionally drops the trash by “accident” and asks Drilbur to pick it up in a very matter-of-factly way. I would’ve felt bad about it if we got along, but as it was, I quite enjoyed it. Seeing someone who rejects you get what’s coming to them is always cathartic. Zuqimori wasn’t doing it to be mean either. He said pokémon, especially unevolved ones, were very much like children, and that they needed clear and direct instructions from their trainers – the earlier the better.

  “We must catch you something else,” Zuqimori says, speaking Pokénglish. He’s been using it randomly now, telling me that it will help me adjust faster. We were having breakfast in the kitchen – a pair of coffees and some toast with razz-berry marmalade. My appetite hasn’t been the same since I got here, as every time I eat, my body gets feverish for a while after and feel incapable of having anything until I cool down again. Zuqimori said he hadn’t fed me a thing for the first five day I’d been unconscious for this reason.

  “Will you release Drilbur?”

  “I might. But they do make really good grave robbers – I was serious about that.”

  I nod along, sipping sweet coffee from my cup. “Isn’t that illegal here?”

  He shakes his head, blinking away the sleep from his eyes. “I have found some very curious, sometimes useful things at grave sites. Leaving them buried away in the earth is simply plain wasteful. You find yourself out in the streets without a dime, a Drilbur isn’t a bad partner to have.”

  “Why not just give me Garuvan?” I ask hopingly. “You said it likes me.”

  “Hwe!” he exclaims, reverting to Japanglish. “No, Baruto-kun. Garuvan is number one security officer – never can I give to you.”

  Missy pokes through the wall next to the table and I jump in surprise. She is whining, staring meanly at Zuqimori.

  “No! no, Missy!” he starts, “I say security officer, OK? You are number one spy… They are different job, OK?” He quickly puts his cup on the table and frantically waves his hands dismissively. “Go, go! Do not leave Mogurew by himself – he will make hole everywhere!”

  As I’m finishing my last slice of toast, I get an epiphany that I’ve been freed from having to go to school. I was planning to do a major in media studies when the time for college came. It was one of the few fields where playing, talking, and writing about video games was actually legit homework. But none of that mattered now, because unless I was spirited away back to Canada, that was never going to happen.

  “What – umm… What do you want me to do?”

  The question surprised Zuqimori, who with his bed-hair and baggy eyes, didn’t seem at all ready for it.

  “To do where?”

  “Here – I mean… Like after we catch my pokémon…”

  “Ah,” he said, massaging his eyes. “Nothing for now. Just settle first, and later we see…”

  …

  “What is your job? Why are you out here?”

  He snickers, saying, “You start to settle…” then pauses a whole minute, humming some tune as he chews on some toast.

  “I will continue with my goal. I will make Brightstar 2.0… Maybe you help.”

  With the way he’s smiling, I’m not sure I want to.

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