toastyoaties
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Hey, guys. I'm new to the forums and excited about the Writer's Workshop. The following is my first Pokémon fanfic.
If you have any advice on how it could've been better, I'd love to hear it.
Title: "Can You Hear Me?"
Genre: Pokémon Short Story / One-off
Word count: 6443
“Pancham, Karate Chop!”
“Kecleon, Shadow Sneak!”
The short, panda-like creature Pancham ran forward to attack Kecleon. Craig watched the upright chameleon from the small crowd: Kecleon stood still, but its shadow was visibly growing. It quickly covered the distance between the two battling Pokémon and slid alongside the shadow of the running Pancham; shadow-Kecleon opened its mouth and shot out a long tongue, wrapping it around shadow-Pancham and tightening its grip. The physical Pancham was snapped backward as if by an invisible rope just as it was raising its arm to strike.
“It’s already over,” Craig said to his buddies.
“Really?” asked Jack. He was fidgety, running his hang up and down the guitar strap across his chest.
Craig spoke in jargon that Jack didn’t completely follow. “Yeah. By using Shadow Sneak, Kecleon’s now a ghost Pokémon. And he got to do that before Pancham hit him since it’s such a quick move. Look—Pancham can’t hit him now.”
On the field, the younger trainer desperately ran the panda Pokémon through its gamut of moves (“Karate Chop!” “Slash!” “Comet Punch, quick!”), but Kecleon seemed always to be in a spot just to the side of where he was an instant before, and Pancham’s attacks were useless.
Frankly, thought Craig, he’s being a bit of a jerk.
Finally, Kecleon’s trainer yelled out, “Psybeam! Now!”, and Kecleon shot two back-to-back psychically-produced rays at the Pancham, and the match was called. Pancham’s unfortunate trainer was dumbfounded.
“Man, Kenneth is good,” said Craig’s other friend, Sam, speaking up for the first time.
“Who cares if he’s good?” said Craig. “He won’t get anywhere by only ever using one Pokémon. I wish he’d go catch some more so we could actually see some good matches from him.” Craig was running the Poké Battle arm of the Summer Showdown.
Sam nodded. “Yeah, I know. Everyone knows he’ll win the one-v-one tournament. Only beginners ever sign up for that one—beginners and Kenneth. Nobody ever stands a chance against him because everyone who would battles with more Pokémon.”
Nobody said anything for a minute. Jack rocked back and forth on his toes. A voice came to them:
“Hey, guys.” It was Kenneth, walking by them as the crowd dispersed for the break, Pokémon partner in tow.
“Hey,” they said.
“Kecleon,” said Kecleon. Pokémon and trainer kept walking.
“What a shame,” said Craig.
———
Kenneth knew his classmates thought his dearth of Pokémon strange. He himself realized it was unusual, as he hadn’t heard of any other serious trainer with only one Pokémon.
“It’s just that being a trainer isn’t the only thing I want to do,” he explained to Kecleon as they sat at a table inside the Pokémon Center. Kecleon would listen dutifully to his trainer every time Kenneth started this monologue. It was always the same: “My writing is important to me, too. I can’t just abandon it. If I spend all my time Pokémon training, I won’t ever be able to write anything people will really want to read.” Still, being such a narrowly-skilled trainer bothered him.
After complaining for a bit to Kecleon (who politely responded with “Leon” and “Kecle?” at appropriate times), Kenneth pulled his notebook from his satchel to write his daily exercises. He had a tight schedule today, with the tournament taking place, and this break was really the only time he had to write in.
Less than a minute in, though, he was distracted by a group of middle-school bugcatchers walking into the Center, jabbering loudly.
“—caught three Caterpies! Why would you ever want three Caterpies!”
“Don’t listen to him, Butterfree’s awesome. You can’t have too many powder-sprayers.”
“I can’t believe you only brought three Pokéballs! That Spinarak would’ve been awesome! You’ve gotta learn not to catch the first things you see…”
Apparently the kid in the middle caught his first Pokémon today. And he caught three of them. All of a sudden, Kenneth no longer felt like writing. It was time to brood.
———
A day later, Kenneth was in his bedroom, holding their winner’s trophy out for Kecleon’s inspection. Kecleon took it in its hands.
“What do you think?” asked Kenneth.
Kecleon turned it around, then silently handed it back to his trainer.
“Yeah, I know. It kind of doesn’t feel like much this time.” Kenneth sighed.
Someone knocked on his open door, and he looked up. “Hey, Dad.”
“Hey, son! Congratulations on your win!”
“Thanks,” Kenneth said halfheartedly.
“I’m sorry I had to leave before the final match—Sceptile was giving birth.”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Kenneth. “Honestly, there wasn’t any chance I could’ve lost, was there?”
“No, I suppose not,” said his dad, a little more quickly than Kenneth would have liked—even though it was a compliment. “You are a great battler.”
“But not a great trainer, huh?”
His dad looked surprised. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I mean, you’re a breeder, and that’s all you are. You’ve never tried to be anything else. Me, I’m too…” He paused. “…too distracted by other things to be a good trainer.”
His dad didn’t say anything.
“But I don’t know how to choose just one thing to pursue. I hate losing options, and I don’t want to waste any of my talents.”
“Do you want my advice?” his dad offered. Kenneth nodded. “There’s not any rule that says you can’t do multiple things,” he said. “But it all depends how you want your life to go. You can be pretty good at a lot of things, or really good at a few things. But probably not both. Which would you enjoy more?”
“I don’t know…” Kenneth shook his head. “I really don’t know.”
———
Kenneth’s thoughts were circling the rest of the night, even in his sleep, and by morning he had come to a (probably rash, he thought) decision. He headed out early for the Poké Mart and bought a few Pokéballs. Then he went to the park, where a crowd was gathering as sound equipment was being set up on a temporary stage for the musical competition segment of the Summer Showdown. It took him a few minutes to find the guy he was looking for.
“Hey! Craig!” he called.
Craig turned around from where he was standing with Jack by a set of large amplifiers. Kenneth jogged over.
“Kenneth—uh, hey!”
“Listen—“ said Kenneth, “I, uh…” His voice trailed off and his cheeks colored a bit, but then he rapidly recited, “I wanted to know if you could teach me how to catch a Pokémon. Like, today.”
“Wait, what?” said Craig. “Really?”
“Yeah, before I change my mind.”
Craig’s brow was knitted. “Uh… I mean, sure.” He shook his head. “Just let me finish helping Jack get his sound equipment backstage.”
Craig and Jack each wheeled an amp away. When they came back, Craig said, “I have to be back by the afternoon, though, for Jack’s set.”
“Oh, sure.” Kenneth still looked embarrassed. After Craig gave a quick “See ya in a bit” to Jack, the pair set out.
They were bashfully quiet for the first stretch of the walk, since they really didn’t know each other that well.
Craig broke the tension first. “You actually want to catch more Pokémon?”
“Maybe just one, to start with. I only decided this morning, and I wanted to get out and do it before I changed my mind again.”
“So anything in particular you want to catch? I guess we’re sort-of headed toward the Camouflage Woods since it’s the closest edge of town.”
“Anywhere’s fine, really.”
“Is that where you caught your Kecleon?” asked Craig.
Kenneth’s cheeks reddened again. “Actually… my parents bought it for me. When I turned sixteen. That’s why I want you to teach me to catch a Pokémon: I’ve never done it before.”
His parents can afford that? thought Craig. Out loud, he began instructing Kenneth on the process of weakening and catching a wild Pokémon.
The two of them were soon inside Camouflage Woods, still conversing, but much more quietly so as not to scare off potential catches.
After a few minutes, they began to hear snarling and barking, which intensified the further they walked. They simultaneously stopped and looked at each other nervously.
Craig called out one of his Pokémon. “Quagsire!” The ball he was holding opened, and a four-and-a-half-foot tall, blue (but otherwise nondescript) biped materialized in front of them. “We’re gonna need to be quiet,” Craig told the creature.
Kenneth, likewise, said, “Come out, Kecleon!” and released his partner. “Camouflage yourself,” he told it.
They stood still listening to the noises, until they heard a voice—a young woman’s—cry out, “Stop! Please stop!” At this Kenneth and Craig immediately rushed forward. The woman’s voice came again, crying out wordlessly. Kenneth and Craig sprinted now, and reached a clearing.
There were two packs of wild canines. One was filled with Arcanines, orange, tiger-striped dogs with large tufts of fur around their heads and at their chests and along their gigantic tails. The other was of mean-looking black dogs with curved horns, and rib-like bones growing out of their backs: Houndooms. Each pack was tussling viciously with the other, and amid the snarls and yelps the young woman’s voice could be heard, crying in pain. There were two Koffings—purple, ball-shaped flying Pokémon—struggling to keep the dogs away from the middle. Kenneth thought, Is that where the woman is?
“Quagsire, use Surf!” shouted Craig. “Quagsire?”
The Pokémon was only just reaching the clearing. “Use Surf!” Craig repeated. Water began to seep out of the ground beneath Quagsire and started forming into a wave.
Acting intuitively, Kenneth yelled, “Koffings! Separate from your trainer, get to the sides, and Self-Destruct!”
The two Koffings hovered, unsure, for a moment, then obeyed Kenneth’s confident commands. Just as Quagsire’s wave began pouring over half of the canines, there were two explosions. Both trainers were knocked off their feet, and all sound was deadened except for a terrible ringing in their ears.
Gradually, they became aware of yelps and scampering feet as the packs scattered from the clearing. Craig and Kenneth rose, warily, wincing, to their feet. Their arms were cut up, as were Kenneth’s legs—he was wearing shorts. When they saw the woman, though, thoughts of their own pain vanished.
She was lying with her arms covering her face, and legs akimbo. She wasn’t moving. One arm and one leg were gashed, and blood was issuing. The two teens stumbled to her across the muddied ground.
“Aw, man,” said Craig, kneeling. “Aw, geez.” Panicking, he looked up at Kenneth. “What do we do?”
Kenneth ran his hands through his hair. “I think—I think we’re supposed to stop the bleeding.”
This idea steadied Craig. He glanced around for a second, then thought of his shirt. He took it off. “I’ll get the arm, you get the leg.”
Kenneth removed his shirt as well, and they knotted their shirts around the limbs.
“I don’t think we should carry her,” said Craig.
“Stay with her,” said Kenneth. “I’ll go get help.” He started to turn, and then, for the first time, noticed the woman’s Koffing lying unconscious several yards away. He turned around to look at the other one and saw, in addition to the Koffing, a Houndoom lying on the ground. He ran to it, limping a bit. It too was unconscious, and blood was coming out of its ear. “Craig, the Pokémon,” said Kenneth.
Craig stood and searched the ground. “Here,” he said, stooping to pick up two dirty Pokéballs from the grass. He tossed them to Kenneth, who held one up and pressed the button on it. The Koffing nearest him was absorbed into a beam of light that disappeared inside the Pokéball. He ran over to the other one and repeated the process.
“I’ll get them to the Center and then get help for the girl,” he said. Then he turned and looked at the Houndoom again. “That one needs help too.”
Craig said, “There’s no way. It’s too heavy to carry, and dragging it would hurt it more. And we don’t have time anyway.”
“Then… then I’ll catch it,” said Kenneth. He started running back to the Houndoom.
“Are you sure that’s a good—“
But the ball was already in the air. It landed on the canine, bounced up, and opened. The dog vanished into it, and it fell to the ground.
Having gathered all three balls, Kenneth then looked around for Kecleon. “Kecleon, return,” he said, and Kecleon disappeared into its own ball as well. Kenneth said, “I’ll be back,” and took off.
He tried to ignore his pain as he ran and he stopped for breathers only briefly. Reaching town, he made a beeline for the Pokémon Center, stumbling inside and stopping. He bent to put his hands on his thighs and tried desperately to catch his breath.
Seeing the state of Kenneth’s face, body, and hair, and his missing shirt, Joy—the Pokémon nurse—hurried out from behind the counter and over to him.
“What’s wrong? What’s going on?” she asked.
In between breaths, Kenneth said, “There’s been—an incident—in the woods. I need you—to take care of—these Pokémon, while I go get—medical help.”
Nurse Joy said, “You can barely breathe. I’ll call the hospital and get a doctor over here.”
“No, tell them to meet me—at the edge of the woods.” He was recovering. “It’ll be faster. And tell them to bring some extra people, and a stretcher.” As soon as he could, he ran out.
Once he saw the doctor—a blond-haired woman still in her lab coat—and two male orderlies approaching, Kenneth waved his arms and yelled, “Over here!”
He began leading them through the woods and finally into the clearing, where they rushed to the woman, and after inspecting her, moved her onto the stretcher.
“Thank you so much,” said the doctor. “We’ll get her to the ER as quick as we can.” The three of them set out.
“Wow,” Kenneth said to Craig, and sighed. “Just, wow.”
———
After going home to shower, put on fresh clothes, and explain what happened to his very concerned mother and father, Kenneth headed out for the Pokémon Center again, Kecleon at his side. By this time it was evening. A summer fog had settled in on the coastal town, cutting short the performances at the Showdown. The glow from the streetlamps was blurred and diffused. Any warmer and the air would have been clammy, but as it was the air was pleasant and still. Kenneth and Kecleon didn’t see the Pokémon Center’s lights until they were only a few yards from it. They came up to the doors, which slid open for them, and walked inside.
Nurse Joy was on a loveseat by a table in the lobby talking to a couple of trainers, but when she recognized Kenneth she excused herself. “You’re the trainer who brought in the Koffings and the Houndoom, aren’t you?” she asked him.
“Yes,” he said, “I’ve come to check on them. How are they?”
Joy’s face was downcast. She said, “The two Koffings have recovered well, but the Houndoom… Well, let me take you to her.” She began guiding him and Kecleon further into the building.
“It’s a her?”
She looked at Kenneth with eyebrows raised. “You didn’t know?”
“I only caught it—her—today,” he said. “And so much was going on I didn’t think about something like that.”
“What exactly happened? What was the incident that needed a doctor? Someone was hurt?”
“Yeah, real bad,” he said. He began to relay the story for the second time that day. They stopped outside a door halfway down the hall while he finished his story.
“So that’s what happened,” Joy whispered. She told Kenneth, “Come in here,” and led the way through the door.
The room contained some humming equipment, including a long-diameter metal column with a similarly sized machine above it. The column’s surface was padded. Kenneth had never been past the lobby of the Center, so he didn’t know what any of the machines were, but the column in the middle looked like some sort of comfortable inspection or diagnostic table. Movement caught his eye, causing him to look past the table and through some glass paneling at the end of the room. Beyond the glass was the Houndoom. It was pacing around while eyeing them, and Kenneth could hear whining coming from its open mouth. Kenneth, Nurse Joy, and the Kecleon all walked up to the glass.
“What’s wrong with it?” Kenneth asked. “It looks okay to me.”
“You told me you saw blood coming from its ear when you captured it, right?”
A terrible thought came to Kenneth. “It’s…deaf?”
Joy nodded sadly. “That’s right. She can’t hear anything at all. That’s why she’s whining—she’s confused and disoriented, and I think she’s also trying to hear herself.”
“When will her hearing come back?” Kenneth was afraid of the answer.
“Probably never. Her eardrums were horribly ruptured by Koffing’s explosion. I called the hospital and spoke with an audiologist late this afternoon, and he said the bones in the middle ear were likely damaged as well. He offered to come out here tomorrow if you’d like.”
“This is my fault,” said Kenneth, more to himself than to Joy. She didn’t reply. “Can I… May I go inside?”
“Be careful,” she said. “She’s still very scared, and I don’t know if she realizes your involvement with the explosion. Take Kecleon with you in case she lashes out.”
Cautiously, Kenneth pulled open the glass door and stepped inside with Kecleon. The Houndoom narrowed its eyes and gave a low growl. It backed away and began trembling. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” said Kenneth, before he remembered it couldn’t hear him. But he went ahead and said, “I’m not gonna hurt you,” anyway. “…anymore,” he added. He knelt down and sat back, so that he was resting on his heels. Kecleon remained standing at his side.
The three of them—Kenneth and the two Pokémon—stayed like this for a full minute.
Outside the glass, Joy heard a voice calling for her: “Nurse Joy! Nurse Joy! Are you back here?”
Joy walked to the door and stuck her head out. “I’m here,” she said.
One of the trainers she had been talking with when Kenneth entered—a middle-aged man with thinning hair—saw her and said, “There’s some people who’ve brought Pokémon for you to treat.”
“I’ll be right out,” she told him, and let the door close. She walked back to the glass door and opened it an inch. “I need to go to the front for a while,” she said. “Will you be okay here alone?”
“I’ve got Kecleon with me, so I should be safe,” Kenneth replied.
“I’ll try to keep an eye on you through the security camera.” She pointed. “I’ll be back.” She closed the door and left the room, leaving Kenneth and his Pokémon alone with Houndoom.
When Houndoom decided Kenneth wasn’t going to threaten it, it crept forward, still shaking, until it was just out of reach. It stood there and growled a little more but then switched to a whine. Kenneth held his hand out, palm toward the ceiling, and steadied it there. Houndoom gazed at it, whining and shaking. It took a couple steps and gingerly sniffed Kenneth’s fingers. Kenneth started moving his hand forward to touch its head, but it snapped at him with a bark and he swiftly withdrew his hand back to where it was.
Houndoom growled and stared him in the eye for another few moments before suddenly ceasing its growl, stepping forward again, and tilting its head until the side of it rested on Kenneth’s palm. Kenneth rotated his hand around to the top of Houndoom’s head and began stroking it between its curved horns. Its eyes closed.
“There you go. See, I’m not gonna hurt you anymore. I’m not gonna hurt you, anymore.” Houndoom lay down. It whined occasionally, but then its breath came slow and even. It was asleep at Kenneth’s feet. Kenneth stopped stroking it, and he adjusted his legs into a more comfortable position.
Soon Nurse Joy returned and came in through the glass door.
“I guess it’s time I get going, huh?” said Kenneth. He reached out and touched Houndoom’s side.
Houndoom woke with a start and instinctually snapped its fangs onto Kenneth’s hand and bit down hard. Kenneth yelled. Once Houndoom realized what it had done, it released his hand and gave a whine. Kenneth’s hand started bleeding.
“Oh my goodness,” said Joy. “I’ll get some gauze.” She dashed out of the glass enclosure and reached into a cabinet. She came back, knelt down, and wrapped Kenneth’s hand tightly, as he held a wince and sucked air through his front teeth. “You should go to the emergency room and get this looked at right away.”
Kenneth shook his head. “I’m exhausted. I need to go home. I’ll have to go in the morning.”
Nurse Joy nodded. “Let me get you some more gauze.” Kenneth followed her out of the glass and held the door open for Kecleon and a tentative Houndoom. Joy pulled out another roll of gauze and a roll of medical tape. “Here,” she said. “It’s way more than you’ll need, but just return the excess to me some other time.”
Kenneth thanked her.
“Be sure to put some antibiotic ointment on it once the bleeding stops. And get some pills from the doctor tomorrow in case you get tetanus.”
After assuring her he would, he recalled Kecleon and Houndoom into their Pokéballs, received from Joy the Pokéballs containing the two Koffings, and departed.
———
Morning came again, but it wasn’t until nearly midday that Kenneth awoke. He replayed the events of the previous day in his mind, and groaned—he still had to take the Koffings to the girl in the hospital. After forcing himself out of bed and through dressing and eating, he set out.
Once he reached the hospital, Kenneth described the young woman to a nurse at the front desk, who told him how to reach her room. He knocked on her door and waited to enter until he heard a “Come in.” Inside he saw the young woman in the hospital bed, and Craig standing next to her.
“Hey, Kenneth!” he said. “Let me introduce you: Kenneth, this is Abigail. Abigail, Kenneth. He’s the guy who found you with me—and he did the most work in getting you here.”
“Thank you, Kenneth. It’s nice to meet you,” she said.
Now that they weren’t in a stressful situation, Kenneth could better focus on Abigail. Probably mid-twenties, she had a pale face (though that might have been from the trauma) and blond hair with a bit of curl to it, and she was frumpy, not pretty. From somewhere she had obtained a garland, which was tucked into her hair.
Remembering himself, Kenneth removed two Pokéballs from a couple of clasps on his belt. “I brought these from the Pokémon Center for you. They’re your Koffings.”
Abigail’s face brightened. “Oh, thank you! Craig told me you’d taken them there, but I was still worried about them. Are they all right?”
“They’re just fine,” he told her. “Here, call them out.” He handed her the Pokéballs, and she pressed the button on each to release the creatures.
“Koffing, Koffing!” they announced when they appeared. They flew to their trainer and hovered by her head.
“Oh, I’m so glad you’re okay!” She placed a hand around each one for a half-embrace. Kenneth had never seen someone so affectionate toward this type of Pokémon, known mainly for the toxic smog it released. But then again, he had been petting a grown Houndoom last night.
“How do you feel?” Kenneth asked her.
“I hurt,” she said, “but its bearable. What’s worse is being in a hospital at all—looking ugly and scratched up, lying in this bed, being hooked to an IV. Actually, I only woke up an hour ago from the sedation.”
Craig turned to Kenneth. “Yeah, I came up here this morning, but the doctor said she wasn’t awake. So I’m here now instead.”
“What happened yesterday?” Kenneth asked her. “Why were you in the middle of that fight?”
“I was trying to stop the Houndooms and Arcanines from attacking each other, but I think I angered them more.”
“They were probably battling over territory,” said Craig.
“Maybe so,” said Kenneth. Then: “But that was a really foolish thing to do.” Did I just chastise her?
Abigail looked a little hurt. “Maybe it was silly, but I hate to see people fighting—people or Pokémon.” Kenneth seemed to have touched a nerve. “A battle between trainers is one thing, but fighting out of anger—I can’t stand it. I always try to stop it whenever it’s happening.” She paused. “I guess you could say it’s part of my personal code of honor.”
Abashedly, Kenneth said, “I’m sorry. That was rude of me.” Personal code of honor…?
“It’s all right. Things like that are just important to me. That’s all.”
“Hey Kenneth,” interrupted Craig. “What happened to that Houndoom you brought to the Pokémon Center?”
“You took one of the Houndooms to the Center?” Abigail asked. She looked impressed. “Was it hurt?”
“Yeah, pretty bad.” He pulled another Pokéball from his belt. “It’s in here.”
“Is it okay?” Craig asked.
“Well, uh…” Kenneth lowered his eyes. “It’s deaf now.”
“What?” said Abigail.
“I blew its eardrums out when I told your Koffing to self-destruct. I got this—” He held up his bandaged hand. “—when I was trying to calm it last night.”
Abigail and Craig didn’t know what to say.
“Actually, I need to get it checked out,” added Kenneth, still referring to his wound. Awkwardly he said, “So, uh, I guess I have to go do that now. I’ll—see you guys later.” He left the room feeling terrible. I’m such an idiot.
———
Kenneth had just arrived home after seeing the doctor and had searched out his father, who was in their gigantic landscaped backyard watching the assorted Pokémon there. By this time, dusk was settling. “Dad?” Kenneth said.
“Hey! I didn’t even hear you come out.”
“That’s because you always get really absorbed when you’re in your ‘breeder zone’.”
His dad laughed. “That’s true.”
Kenneth called Kecleon from its Pokéball so it could wander the yard with the other Pokémon.
“Dad, I need your help,” he said.
“Sure. What’s going on?”
Kenneth explained about everything that had happened in the Pokémon Center the previous night. His dad’s face as he listened was intent but calm.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” Kenneth concluded.
“Well,” said his dad, “keeping Houndoom in her Pokéball forever isn’t gonna help anyone. Go ahead and call her out.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea, with all these other Pokémon around?”
“What are you afraid will happen?” his dad asked.
“Well…” Kenneth thought for a minute. “I don’t really know. Maybe that she’ll run away?”
“As long as she sees you here, she should be all right. You were there with her last night when she was scared; seeing you again will help her deal with being in another strange place.”
Kenneth held up Houndoom’s Pokéball. “Come on out,” he said automatically when he pushed the button.
Out of the light emitted by the Pokéball emerged Houndoom. Immediately it bared its teeth and started a growl, but when it recognized Kenneth, it changed its growl to a short complaint of a whine and lay down, forepaws out in front with its snout resting on them, and its arrow-shaped tail curled under itself.
“Go on up to her,” his dad prompted. “What she needs right now is some assurance of stability. Everything’s changed all at once for her, and that would be scary for anybody. For now she just needs you to be with her. Go on; I’ll get some food for her.”
Kenneth knelt down and let Houndoom sniff his hand again, then proceeded to stroke its head like before. Shortly his dad returned with some meat, which he gave to Kenneth to feed to it.
“Dad, how am I going to deal with not being able to communicate with her?”
“Well,” said his dad, “you’d be surprised how much can be conveyed by touch or by gesture. Pokémon are intelligent creatures. She’ll catch on.”
Kenneth voiced his other concern: “Do you think I’ll ever be able to train and battle with her?”
Gently, his dad said, “Son, there’s more to living with Pokémon than battling. I know you know that, but knowing it and having to learn to live it are different things. Although…”
“Although what?”
“Although there may be a way to talk to her without spoken language.”
Kenneth was confused. “You want me to write to her?”
His dad laughed. “Think about it: How would you talk to a deaf person?”
“You mean sign language? You think that would work?”
“I have no idea,” said his dad, “but its worth a try, isn’t it?”
“I guess so,” Kenneth said.
Neither of them spoke for a minute. Kenneth moved from stroking Houndoom’s head to stroking between two of the bones on its back. He and his dad looked out at the dark sky, shining with some stars but not a multitude; the lights from the town hid many of them.
“Dad, can I sleep out here?” asked Kenneth. “There’s not a place for Houndoom to sleep in the house, and I don’t want her to be out here alone. And I also don’t want her trapped inside her Pokéball all the time.”
“That sounds like a great idea. Why don’t the two of you come inside so you can have some supper, and I’ll get a sleeping bag for you.”
“Thanks,” said Kenneth. He and Houndoom and his dad went inside.
———
Over the next couple of days, Kenneth alternated between writing and taking walks with Houndoom, trying to get her used to orienting herself without sound and used to being around larger amounts of people. He also put up a flyer on the Pokémon Center’s community bulletin board asking for anyone willing to teach him sign language so he could communicate with his deaf Pokémon.
Eventually, a man named Anthony Sparrow called Kenneth and invited him and Houndoom to his house for some introductory instruction in sign language. When Kenneth arrived at the door of a little green duplex and knocked, the door was opened by a little girl, about five, with yellow ribbons adorning her hair.
“Hi,” he said, “I’m looking for Anthony Sparrow. Is he here?”
“He’s my daddy,” the girl replied. “I’ll go get him.” She walked away, leaving the door open.
Kenneth politely waited on the doorstep until a man in his early thirties, with red hair and large ears, came to get him.
Kenneth and the red-haired man—Anthony—introduced themselves to each other and shook hands. “Go ahead and come in,” Anthony said.
He guided Kenneth into their modest living room while describing his family, including the little girl—his daughter, Melinda—and an older son, who was ten. “My son’s name is Gerald,” Anthony explained, “and he was born deaf. So my wife and I became fluent in sign language so we could teach it to our son. Even little Melinda has picked it up, and she’s really pretty good, despite her age. Though I’ve heard that it’s much easier for children to learn things like that than adults.”
Anthony invited Kenneth to sit down. “May I see your Houndoom?” he asked.
Kenneth obliged and sent out his Pokémon. Once Houndoom appeared, it immediately turned until it found where Kenneth was.
“And you plan to talk to it through sign language?” asked Anthony.
“I don’t know if it’s possible or not, but I felt that I needed to try.”
Houndoom sat on its haunches.
“Do you want to go ahead and start?” Anthony asked.
“Very much,” Kenneth replied.
“Good!” He began to introduce Kenneth to some of the basic elements of sign language and to debunking common misconceptions. He explained how signing involves more than just the hand and finger movements, but also the positioning of the hands in relation to the body, varying sizes of the same sign, and the importance of facial expressions. Houndoom had fallen into a doze, and Kenneth’s head was beginning to swim.
“There’s a lot more to this than I thought,” said Kenneth.
“That’s the way most people feel.”
Melinda’s voice interrupted them. “Daddy, may I have a snack?” She had entered the living room through the house’s one hallway.
“Sure!” Anthony said to her. To Kenneth he said, “Please excuse me for a minute.” He stood up from his chair.
Melinda noticed Houndoom on the other side of Kenneth’s seat. “Oh, a Pokémon!” she exclaimed, and ran over to it.
“Wait,” began Kenneth, “don’t startle—”, but Melinda had already reached out to pet Houndoom’s back.
At the touch, Houndoom snapped awake, then whipped around and gave two vicious barks at the little girl. She fell backwards and burst into tears. Immediately her father scooped her up and away from Houndoom and commanded, “Get that dog under control!”
Suddenly every negative emotion Kenneth had felt since he and Craig found Abigail channeled itself into Kenneth’s mouth. “It’s not her fault!” he said. “She couldn’t hear her coming!”
In an instant the ire of both men had escalated out of control. Houndoom recognized the ill will in the argument and began barking in earnest.
Kenneth shouted, “You should know better than to let your little girl sneak up on something that’s twice her size!” Melinda, held by her father, continued to cry.
“If you would train your dog properly it wouldn’t have lashed out at her in the first place!”
“And how am I supposed to train her if I can’t talk to her!”
Finally a woman’s voice cut into the fight, yelling, “Anthony!”
Anthony stopped in the middle of a sentence and looked around. Both he and Kenneth were shaking, but the woman—presumably Anthony’s wife—had broken the spell that united the men in fury. Once they stopped shouting Houndoom quieted as well, but the daughter’s crying continued.
The woman came fully into the room and spoke firmly again, but this time a little more softly. “All this yelling is only making things worse. Now please, be reasonable to the boy.”
Neither Kenneth nor Anthony said anything, but rather stood watching her and breathing heavily.
“Please calm down,” she told her husband, more quietly still. “And young man,” she added, speaking to Kenneth, “for the time being I think it would be best if you left us.”
All of a sudden Kenneth felt very small.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. He knelt in front of Houndoom, placed his hands on either side of its head, and looked in its eyes, saying, “Let’s go home.” He rose and opened the door, leading Houndoom and glancing back at the woman. She was watching him sternly, but not unkindly. Kenneth and Houndoom left the house.
Once the door shut, Kenneth stopped. A cool, salty breeze was blowing inland off the ocean, and seagulls were calling to one another in the partly-cloudy sky. Kenneth sat down on the Sparrows’ doorstep and set his elbows on his knees with his face in his hands. Houndoom watched him with its tail waving slowly.
I didn’t sign up for this, he thought. Catching another Pokémon was a stupid thing to do. Why did that girl have to get herself into trouble?
Another voice came into his mind and said, Dad wouldn’t mind. He’s good with all sorts of Pokémon. I should be more like him.
“But I’m not Dad,” he responded out loud. “I don’t know how to deal with stuff like this. This shouldn’t be my responsibility.”
With that last thought in his mind, Kenneth stood up and, without looking at Houndoom, set out through the town until he came to a long, yellow building with a sloped green room and a large fence-enclosed yard behind it.
The sign to the left of the door read, “Shelter”.
Kenneth tried not to look at Houndoom as he held the door open, but the Pokémon’s eyes caught his anyway. Kenneth involuntarily knitted his brows and furrowed his forehead, and quickly looked away. They walked in.
Inside the building were numerous short-walled stalls. Kenneth could see a number of Pokémon eating, sleeping, chittering, and squawking inside of them. A grey-haired man, shorter than Kenneth, was sweeping out the stall nearest him. He looked around when the door shut.
“Hello,” the man said, “come to adopt?” He paused in his sweeping.
“Er—no,” said Kenneth, “I need to—I can’t take care of this one anymore.” He would have gestured, but his hands were balled into fists at his sides, and his elbows were locked.
“I’ve seen you before,” said the grey-haired man. “You’re Roger the breeder’s son, aren’t you? He comes in here a lot.”
Kenneth nodded. He saw Houndoom looking up at him.
“So you can’t take care of your Houndoom anymore, eh? Why don’t you let your pop have him?”
“He doesn’t… he doesn’t know.”
“Doesn’t know you’re giving him away?”
Kenneth nodded again. “Her,” he whispered. “It’s a her.” Tears slipped out of his eyes and slid down his cheeks. He tightened his fists.
“It looks to me like you’re not really ready to give her up.”
“I don’t know how to…”
“How to what?”
“How to take care of her,” Kenneth said. The tears came more freely now but he didn’t wipe them away. Houndoom gave a whine.
“Look—son—” the shelter man said, “why don’t you take her back home with you and think about it for a couple of days?”
Kenneth only stood there.
“You’re pop’s got a lot of knowledge about taking care of creatures; I’ve talked to him.” Kenneth said nothing, so the man continued: “How about I let you out, okay?”
“Okay,” Kenneth whispered, as the man stepped over to his side, put a hand on his shoulder blade, and gently steered him around toward the door. He opened it for Kenneth, who stepped outside into the sunlight. Houndoom followed behind him, and the shelter man soundlessly closed the door.
Kenneth remained motionless for several moments, before saying out loud, “Please bear with me.”
Then, still without looking at the canine, he headed home.
If you have any advice on how it could've been better, I'd love to hear it.
Title: "Can You Hear Me?"
Genre: Pokémon Short Story / One-off
Word count: 6443
“Pancham, Karate Chop!”
“Kecleon, Shadow Sneak!”
The short, panda-like creature Pancham ran forward to attack Kecleon. Craig watched the upright chameleon from the small crowd: Kecleon stood still, but its shadow was visibly growing. It quickly covered the distance between the two battling Pokémon and slid alongside the shadow of the running Pancham; shadow-Kecleon opened its mouth and shot out a long tongue, wrapping it around shadow-Pancham and tightening its grip. The physical Pancham was snapped backward as if by an invisible rope just as it was raising its arm to strike.
“It’s already over,” Craig said to his buddies.
“Really?” asked Jack. He was fidgety, running his hang up and down the guitar strap across his chest.
Craig spoke in jargon that Jack didn’t completely follow. “Yeah. By using Shadow Sneak, Kecleon’s now a ghost Pokémon. And he got to do that before Pancham hit him since it’s such a quick move. Look—Pancham can’t hit him now.”
On the field, the younger trainer desperately ran the panda Pokémon through its gamut of moves (“Karate Chop!” “Slash!” “Comet Punch, quick!”), but Kecleon seemed always to be in a spot just to the side of where he was an instant before, and Pancham’s attacks were useless.
Frankly, thought Craig, he’s being a bit of a jerk.
Finally, Kecleon’s trainer yelled out, “Psybeam! Now!”, and Kecleon shot two back-to-back psychically-produced rays at the Pancham, and the match was called. Pancham’s unfortunate trainer was dumbfounded.
“Man, Kenneth is good,” said Craig’s other friend, Sam, speaking up for the first time.
“Who cares if he’s good?” said Craig. “He won’t get anywhere by only ever using one Pokémon. I wish he’d go catch some more so we could actually see some good matches from him.” Craig was running the Poké Battle arm of the Summer Showdown.
Sam nodded. “Yeah, I know. Everyone knows he’ll win the one-v-one tournament. Only beginners ever sign up for that one—beginners and Kenneth. Nobody ever stands a chance against him because everyone who would battles with more Pokémon.”
Nobody said anything for a minute. Jack rocked back and forth on his toes. A voice came to them:
“Hey, guys.” It was Kenneth, walking by them as the crowd dispersed for the break, Pokémon partner in tow.
“Hey,” they said.
“Kecleon,” said Kecleon. Pokémon and trainer kept walking.
“What a shame,” said Craig.
———
Kenneth knew his classmates thought his dearth of Pokémon strange. He himself realized it was unusual, as he hadn’t heard of any other serious trainer with only one Pokémon.
“It’s just that being a trainer isn’t the only thing I want to do,” he explained to Kecleon as they sat at a table inside the Pokémon Center. Kecleon would listen dutifully to his trainer every time Kenneth started this monologue. It was always the same: “My writing is important to me, too. I can’t just abandon it. If I spend all my time Pokémon training, I won’t ever be able to write anything people will really want to read.” Still, being such a narrowly-skilled trainer bothered him.
After complaining for a bit to Kecleon (who politely responded with “Leon” and “Kecle?” at appropriate times), Kenneth pulled his notebook from his satchel to write his daily exercises. He had a tight schedule today, with the tournament taking place, and this break was really the only time he had to write in.
Less than a minute in, though, he was distracted by a group of middle-school bugcatchers walking into the Center, jabbering loudly.
“—caught three Caterpies! Why would you ever want three Caterpies!”
“Don’t listen to him, Butterfree’s awesome. You can’t have too many powder-sprayers.”
“I can’t believe you only brought three Pokéballs! That Spinarak would’ve been awesome! You’ve gotta learn not to catch the first things you see…”
Apparently the kid in the middle caught his first Pokémon today. And he caught three of them. All of a sudden, Kenneth no longer felt like writing. It was time to brood.
———
A day later, Kenneth was in his bedroom, holding their winner’s trophy out for Kecleon’s inspection. Kecleon took it in its hands.
“What do you think?” asked Kenneth.
Kecleon turned it around, then silently handed it back to his trainer.
“Yeah, I know. It kind of doesn’t feel like much this time.” Kenneth sighed.
Someone knocked on his open door, and he looked up. “Hey, Dad.”
“Hey, son! Congratulations on your win!”
“Thanks,” Kenneth said halfheartedly.
“I’m sorry I had to leave before the final match—Sceptile was giving birth.”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Kenneth. “Honestly, there wasn’t any chance I could’ve lost, was there?”
“No, I suppose not,” said his dad, a little more quickly than Kenneth would have liked—even though it was a compliment. “You are a great battler.”
“But not a great trainer, huh?”
His dad looked surprised. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I mean, you’re a breeder, and that’s all you are. You’ve never tried to be anything else. Me, I’m too…” He paused. “…too distracted by other things to be a good trainer.”
His dad didn’t say anything.
“But I don’t know how to choose just one thing to pursue. I hate losing options, and I don’t want to waste any of my talents.”
“Do you want my advice?” his dad offered. Kenneth nodded. “There’s not any rule that says you can’t do multiple things,” he said. “But it all depends how you want your life to go. You can be pretty good at a lot of things, or really good at a few things. But probably not both. Which would you enjoy more?”
“I don’t know…” Kenneth shook his head. “I really don’t know.”
———
Kenneth’s thoughts were circling the rest of the night, even in his sleep, and by morning he had come to a (probably rash, he thought) decision. He headed out early for the Poké Mart and bought a few Pokéballs. Then he went to the park, where a crowd was gathering as sound equipment was being set up on a temporary stage for the musical competition segment of the Summer Showdown. It took him a few minutes to find the guy he was looking for.
“Hey! Craig!” he called.
Craig turned around from where he was standing with Jack by a set of large amplifiers. Kenneth jogged over.
“Kenneth—uh, hey!”
“Listen—“ said Kenneth, “I, uh…” His voice trailed off and his cheeks colored a bit, but then he rapidly recited, “I wanted to know if you could teach me how to catch a Pokémon. Like, today.”
“Wait, what?” said Craig. “Really?”
“Yeah, before I change my mind.”
Craig’s brow was knitted. “Uh… I mean, sure.” He shook his head. “Just let me finish helping Jack get his sound equipment backstage.”
Craig and Jack each wheeled an amp away. When they came back, Craig said, “I have to be back by the afternoon, though, for Jack’s set.”
“Oh, sure.” Kenneth still looked embarrassed. After Craig gave a quick “See ya in a bit” to Jack, the pair set out.
They were bashfully quiet for the first stretch of the walk, since they really didn’t know each other that well.
Craig broke the tension first. “You actually want to catch more Pokémon?”
“Maybe just one, to start with. I only decided this morning, and I wanted to get out and do it before I changed my mind again.”
“So anything in particular you want to catch? I guess we’re sort-of headed toward the Camouflage Woods since it’s the closest edge of town.”
“Anywhere’s fine, really.”
“Is that where you caught your Kecleon?” asked Craig.
Kenneth’s cheeks reddened again. “Actually… my parents bought it for me. When I turned sixteen. That’s why I want you to teach me to catch a Pokémon: I’ve never done it before.”
His parents can afford that? thought Craig. Out loud, he began instructing Kenneth on the process of weakening and catching a wild Pokémon.
The two of them were soon inside Camouflage Woods, still conversing, but much more quietly so as not to scare off potential catches.
After a few minutes, they began to hear snarling and barking, which intensified the further they walked. They simultaneously stopped and looked at each other nervously.
Craig called out one of his Pokémon. “Quagsire!” The ball he was holding opened, and a four-and-a-half-foot tall, blue (but otherwise nondescript) biped materialized in front of them. “We’re gonna need to be quiet,” Craig told the creature.
Kenneth, likewise, said, “Come out, Kecleon!” and released his partner. “Camouflage yourself,” he told it.
They stood still listening to the noises, until they heard a voice—a young woman’s—cry out, “Stop! Please stop!” At this Kenneth and Craig immediately rushed forward. The woman’s voice came again, crying out wordlessly. Kenneth and Craig sprinted now, and reached a clearing.
There were two packs of wild canines. One was filled with Arcanines, orange, tiger-striped dogs with large tufts of fur around their heads and at their chests and along their gigantic tails. The other was of mean-looking black dogs with curved horns, and rib-like bones growing out of their backs: Houndooms. Each pack was tussling viciously with the other, and amid the snarls and yelps the young woman’s voice could be heard, crying in pain. There were two Koffings—purple, ball-shaped flying Pokémon—struggling to keep the dogs away from the middle. Kenneth thought, Is that where the woman is?
“Quagsire, use Surf!” shouted Craig. “Quagsire?”
The Pokémon was only just reaching the clearing. “Use Surf!” Craig repeated. Water began to seep out of the ground beneath Quagsire and started forming into a wave.
Acting intuitively, Kenneth yelled, “Koffings! Separate from your trainer, get to the sides, and Self-Destruct!”
The two Koffings hovered, unsure, for a moment, then obeyed Kenneth’s confident commands. Just as Quagsire’s wave began pouring over half of the canines, there were two explosions. Both trainers were knocked off their feet, and all sound was deadened except for a terrible ringing in their ears.
Gradually, they became aware of yelps and scampering feet as the packs scattered from the clearing. Craig and Kenneth rose, warily, wincing, to their feet. Their arms were cut up, as were Kenneth’s legs—he was wearing shorts. When they saw the woman, though, thoughts of their own pain vanished.
She was lying with her arms covering her face, and legs akimbo. She wasn’t moving. One arm and one leg were gashed, and blood was issuing. The two teens stumbled to her across the muddied ground.
“Aw, man,” said Craig, kneeling. “Aw, geez.” Panicking, he looked up at Kenneth. “What do we do?”
Kenneth ran his hands through his hair. “I think—I think we’re supposed to stop the bleeding.”
This idea steadied Craig. He glanced around for a second, then thought of his shirt. He took it off. “I’ll get the arm, you get the leg.”
Kenneth removed his shirt as well, and they knotted their shirts around the limbs.
“I don’t think we should carry her,” said Craig.
“Stay with her,” said Kenneth. “I’ll go get help.” He started to turn, and then, for the first time, noticed the woman’s Koffing lying unconscious several yards away. He turned around to look at the other one and saw, in addition to the Koffing, a Houndoom lying on the ground. He ran to it, limping a bit. It too was unconscious, and blood was coming out of its ear. “Craig, the Pokémon,” said Kenneth.
Craig stood and searched the ground. “Here,” he said, stooping to pick up two dirty Pokéballs from the grass. He tossed them to Kenneth, who held one up and pressed the button on it. The Koffing nearest him was absorbed into a beam of light that disappeared inside the Pokéball. He ran over to the other one and repeated the process.
“I’ll get them to the Center and then get help for the girl,” he said. Then he turned and looked at the Houndoom again. “That one needs help too.”
Craig said, “There’s no way. It’s too heavy to carry, and dragging it would hurt it more. And we don’t have time anyway.”
“Then… then I’ll catch it,” said Kenneth. He started running back to the Houndoom.
“Are you sure that’s a good—“
But the ball was already in the air. It landed on the canine, bounced up, and opened. The dog vanished into it, and it fell to the ground.
Having gathered all three balls, Kenneth then looked around for Kecleon. “Kecleon, return,” he said, and Kecleon disappeared into its own ball as well. Kenneth said, “I’ll be back,” and took off.
He tried to ignore his pain as he ran and he stopped for breathers only briefly. Reaching town, he made a beeline for the Pokémon Center, stumbling inside and stopping. He bent to put his hands on his thighs and tried desperately to catch his breath.
Seeing the state of Kenneth’s face, body, and hair, and his missing shirt, Joy—the Pokémon nurse—hurried out from behind the counter and over to him.
“What’s wrong? What’s going on?” she asked.
In between breaths, Kenneth said, “There’s been—an incident—in the woods. I need you—to take care of—these Pokémon, while I go get—medical help.”
Nurse Joy said, “You can barely breathe. I’ll call the hospital and get a doctor over here.”
“No, tell them to meet me—at the edge of the woods.” He was recovering. “It’ll be faster. And tell them to bring some extra people, and a stretcher.” As soon as he could, he ran out.
Once he saw the doctor—a blond-haired woman still in her lab coat—and two male orderlies approaching, Kenneth waved his arms and yelled, “Over here!”
He began leading them through the woods and finally into the clearing, where they rushed to the woman, and after inspecting her, moved her onto the stretcher.
“Thank you so much,” said the doctor. “We’ll get her to the ER as quick as we can.” The three of them set out.
“Wow,” Kenneth said to Craig, and sighed. “Just, wow.”
———
After going home to shower, put on fresh clothes, and explain what happened to his very concerned mother and father, Kenneth headed out for the Pokémon Center again, Kecleon at his side. By this time it was evening. A summer fog had settled in on the coastal town, cutting short the performances at the Showdown. The glow from the streetlamps was blurred and diffused. Any warmer and the air would have been clammy, but as it was the air was pleasant and still. Kenneth and Kecleon didn’t see the Pokémon Center’s lights until they were only a few yards from it. They came up to the doors, which slid open for them, and walked inside.
Nurse Joy was on a loveseat by a table in the lobby talking to a couple of trainers, but when she recognized Kenneth she excused herself. “You’re the trainer who brought in the Koffings and the Houndoom, aren’t you?” she asked him.
“Yes,” he said, “I’ve come to check on them. How are they?”
Joy’s face was downcast. She said, “The two Koffings have recovered well, but the Houndoom… Well, let me take you to her.” She began guiding him and Kecleon further into the building.
“It’s a her?”
She looked at Kenneth with eyebrows raised. “You didn’t know?”
“I only caught it—her—today,” he said. “And so much was going on I didn’t think about something like that.”
“What exactly happened? What was the incident that needed a doctor? Someone was hurt?”
“Yeah, real bad,” he said. He began to relay the story for the second time that day. They stopped outside a door halfway down the hall while he finished his story.
“So that’s what happened,” Joy whispered. She told Kenneth, “Come in here,” and led the way through the door.
The room contained some humming equipment, including a long-diameter metal column with a similarly sized machine above it. The column’s surface was padded. Kenneth had never been past the lobby of the Center, so he didn’t know what any of the machines were, but the column in the middle looked like some sort of comfortable inspection or diagnostic table. Movement caught his eye, causing him to look past the table and through some glass paneling at the end of the room. Beyond the glass was the Houndoom. It was pacing around while eyeing them, and Kenneth could hear whining coming from its open mouth. Kenneth, Nurse Joy, and the Kecleon all walked up to the glass.
“What’s wrong with it?” Kenneth asked. “It looks okay to me.”
“You told me you saw blood coming from its ear when you captured it, right?”
A terrible thought came to Kenneth. “It’s…deaf?”
Joy nodded sadly. “That’s right. She can’t hear anything at all. That’s why she’s whining—she’s confused and disoriented, and I think she’s also trying to hear herself.”
“When will her hearing come back?” Kenneth was afraid of the answer.
“Probably never. Her eardrums were horribly ruptured by Koffing’s explosion. I called the hospital and spoke with an audiologist late this afternoon, and he said the bones in the middle ear were likely damaged as well. He offered to come out here tomorrow if you’d like.”
“This is my fault,” said Kenneth, more to himself than to Joy. She didn’t reply. “Can I… May I go inside?”
“Be careful,” she said. “She’s still very scared, and I don’t know if she realizes your involvement with the explosion. Take Kecleon with you in case she lashes out.”
Cautiously, Kenneth pulled open the glass door and stepped inside with Kecleon. The Houndoom narrowed its eyes and gave a low growl. It backed away and began trembling. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” said Kenneth, before he remembered it couldn’t hear him. But he went ahead and said, “I’m not gonna hurt you,” anyway. “…anymore,” he added. He knelt down and sat back, so that he was resting on his heels. Kecleon remained standing at his side.
The three of them—Kenneth and the two Pokémon—stayed like this for a full minute.
Outside the glass, Joy heard a voice calling for her: “Nurse Joy! Nurse Joy! Are you back here?”
Joy walked to the door and stuck her head out. “I’m here,” she said.
One of the trainers she had been talking with when Kenneth entered—a middle-aged man with thinning hair—saw her and said, “There’s some people who’ve brought Pokémon for you to treat.”
“I’ll be right out,” she told him, and let the door close. She walked back to the glass door and opened it an inch. “I need to go to the front for a while,” she said. “Will you be okay here alone?”
“I’ve got Kecleon with me, so I should be safe,” Kenneth replied.
“I’ll try to keep an eye on you through the security camera.” She pointed. “I’ll be back.” She closed the door and left the room, leaving Kenneth and his Pokémon alone with Houndoom.
When Houndoom decided Kenneth wasn’t going to threaten it, it crept forward, still shaking, until it was just out of reach. It stood there and growled a little more but then switched to a whine. Kenneth held his hand out, palm toward the ceiling, and steadied it there. Houndoom gazed at it, whining and shaking. It took a couple steps and gingerly sniffed Kenneth’s fingers. Kenneth started moving his hand forward to touch its head, but it snapped at him with a bark and he swiftly withdrew his hand back to where it was.
Houndoom growled and stared him in the eye for another few moments before suddenly ceasing its growl, stepping forward again, and tilting its head until the side of it rested on Kenneth’s palm. Kenneth rotated his hand around to the top of Houndoom’s head and began stroking it between its curved horns. Its eyes closed.
“There you go. See, I’m not gonna hurt you anymore. I’m not gonna hurt you, anymore.” Houndoom lay down. It whined occasionally, but then its breath came slow and even. It was asleep at Kenneth’s feet. Kenneth stopped stroking it, and he adjusted his legs into a more comfortable position.
Soon Nurse Joy returned and came in through the glass door.
“I guess it’s time I get going, huh?” said Kenneth. He reached out and touched Houndoom’s side.
Houndoom woke with a start and instinctually snapped its fangs onto Kenneth’s hand and bit down hard. Kenneth yelled. Once Houndoom realized what it had done, it released his hand and gave a whine. Kenneth’s hand started bleeding.
“Oh my goodness,” said Joy. “I’ll get some gauze.” She dashed out of the glass enclosure and reached into a cabinet. She came back, knelt down, and wrapped Kenneth’s hand tightly, as he held a wince and sucked air through his front teeth. “You should go to the emergency room and get this looked at right away.”
Kenneth shook his head. “I’m exhausted. I need to go home. I’ll have to go in the morning.”
Nurse Joy nodded. “Let me get you some more gauze.” Kenneth followed her out of the glass and held the door open for Kecleon and a tentative Houndoom. Joy pulled out another roll of gauze and a roll of medical tape. “Here,” she said. “It’s way more than you’ll need, but just return the excess to me some other time.”
Kenneth thanked her.
“Be sure to put some antibiotic ointment on it once the bleeding stops. And get some pills from the doctor tomorrow in case you get tetanus.”
After assuring her he would, he recalled Kecleon and Houndoom into their Pokéballs, received from Joy the Pokéballs containing the two Koffings, and departed.
———
Morning came again, but it wasn’t until nearly midday that Kenneth awoke. He replayed the events of the previous day in his mind, and groaned—he still had to take the Koffings to the girl in the hospital. After forcing himself out of bed and through dressing and eating, he set out.
Once he reached the hospital, Kenneth described the young woman to a nurse at the front desk, who told him how to reach her room. He knocked on her door and waited to enter until he heard a “Come in.” Inside he saw the young woman in the hospital bed, and Craig standing next to her.
“Hey, Kenneth!” he said. “Let me introduce you: Kenneth, this is Abigail. Abigail, Kenneth. He’s the guy who found you with me—and he did the most work in getting you here.”
“Thank you, Kenneth. It’s nice to meet you,” she said.
Now that they weren’t in a stressful situation, Kenneth could better focus on Abigail. Probably mid-twenties, she had a pale face (though that might have been from the trauma) and blond hair with a bit of curl to it, and she was frumpy, not pretty. From somewhere she had obtained a garland, which was tucked into her hair.
Remembering himself, Kenneth removed two Pokéballs from a couple of clasps on his belt. “I brought these from the Pokémon Center for you. They’re your Koffings.”
Abigail’s face brightened. “Oh, thank you! Craig told me you’d taken them there, but I was still worried about them. Are they all right?”
“They’re just fine,” he told her. “Here, call them out.” He handed her the Pokéballs, and she pressed the button on each to release the creatures.
“Koffing, Koffing!” they announced when they appeared. They flew to their trainer and hovered by her head.
“Oh, I’m so glad you’re okay!” She placed a hand around each one for a half-embrace. Kenneth had never seen someone so affectionate toward this type of Pokémon, known mainly for the toxic smog it released. But then again, he had been petting a grown Houndoom last night.
“How do you feel?” Kenneth asked her.
“I hurt,” she said, “but its bearable. What’s worse is being in a hospital at all—looking ugly and scratched up, lying in this bed, being hooked to an IV. Actually, I only woke up an hour ago from the sedation.”
Craig turned to Kenneth. “Yeah, I came up here this morning, but the doctor said she wasn’t awake. So I’m here now instead.”
“What happened yesterday?” Kenneth asked her. “Why were you in the middle of that fight?”
“I was trying to stop the Houndooms and Arcanines from attacking each other, but I think I angered them more.”
“They were probably battling over territory,” said Craig.
“Maybe so,” said Kenneth. Then: “But that was a really foolish thing to do.” Did I just chastise her?
Abigail looked a little hurt. “Maybe it was silly, but I hate to see people fighting—people or Pokémon.” Kenneth seemed to have touched a nerve. “A battle between trainers is one thing, but fighting out of anger—I can’t stand it. I always try to stop it whenever it’s happening.” She paused. “I guess you could say it’s part of my personal code of honor.”
Abashedly, Kenneth said, “I’m sorry. That was rude of me.” Personal code of honor…?
“It’s all right. Things like that are just important to me. That’s all.”
“Hey Kenneth,” interrupted Craig. “What happened to that Houndoom you brought to the Pokémon Center?”
“You took one of the Houndooms to the Center?” Abigail asked. She looked impressed. “Was it hurt?”
“Yeah, pretty bad.” He pulled another Pokéball from his belt. “It’s in here.”
“Is it okay?” Craig asked.
“Well, uh…” Kenneth lowered his eyes. “It’s deaf now.”
“What?” said Abigail.
“I blew its eardrums out when I told your Koffing to self-destruct. I got this—” He held up his bandaged hand. “—when I was trying to calm it last night.”
Abigail and Craig didn’t know what to say.
“Actually, I need to get it checked out,” added Kenneth, still referring to his wound. Awkwardly he said, “So, uh, I guess I have to go do that now. I’ll—see you guys later.” He left the room feeling terrible. I’m such an idiot.
———
Kenneth had just arrived home after seeing the doctor and had searched out his father, who was in their gigantic landscaped backyard watching the assorted Pokémon there. By this time, dusk was settling. “Dad?” Kenneth said.
“Hey! I didn’t even hear you come out.”
“That’s because you always get really absorbed when you’re in your ‘breeder zone’.”
His dad laughed. “That’s true.”
Kenneth called Kecleon from its Pokéball so it could wander the yard with the other Pokémon.
“Dad, I need your help,” he said.
“Sure. What’s going on?”
Kenneth explained about everything that had happened in the Pokémon Center the previous night. His dad’s face as he listened was intent but calm.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” Kenneth concluded.
“Well,” said his dad, “keeping Houndoom in her Pokéball forever isn’t gonna help anyone. Go ahead and call her out.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea, with all these other Pokémon around?”
“What are you afraid will happen?” his dad asked.
“Well…” Kenneth thought for a minute. “I don’t really know. Maybe that she’ll run away?”
“As long as she sees you here, she should be all right. You were there with her last night when she was scared; seeing you again will help her deal with being in another strange place.”
Kenneth held up Houndoom’s Pokéball. “Come on out,” he said automatically when he pushed the button.
Out of the light emitted by the Pokéball emerged Houndoom. Immediately it bared its teeth and started a growl, but when it recognized Kenneth, it changed its growl to a short complaint of a whine and lay down, forepaws out in front with its snout resting on them, and its arrow-shaped tail curled under itself.
“Go on up to her,” his dad prompted. “What she needs right now is some assurance of stability. Everything’s changed all at once for her, and that would be scary for anybody. For now she just needs you to be with her. Go on; I’ll get some food for her.”
Kenneth knelt down and let Houndoom sniff his hand again, then proceeded to stroke its head like before. Shortly his dad returned with some meat, which he gave to Kenneth to feed to it.
“Dad, how am I going to deal with not being able to communicate with her?”
“Well,” said his dad, “you’d be surprised how much can be conveyed by touch or by gesture. Pokémon are intelligent creatures. She’ll catch on.”
Kenneth voiced his other concern: “Do you think I’ll ever be able to train and battle with her?”
Gently, his dad said, “Son, there’s more to living with Pokémon than battling. I know you know that, but knowing it and having to learn to live it are different things. Although…”
“Although what?”
“Although there may be a way to talk to her without spoken language.”
Kenneth was confused. “You want me to write to her?”
His dad laughed. “Think about it: How would you talk to a deaf person?”
“You mean sign language? You think that would work?”
“I have no idea,” said his dad, “but its worth a try, isn’t it?”
“I guess so,” Kenneth said.
Neither of them spoke for a minute. Kenneth moved from stroking Houndoom’s head to stroking between two of the bones on its back. He and his dad looked out at the dark sky, shining with some stars but not a multitude; the lights from the town hid many of them.
“Dad, can I sleep out here?” asked Kenneth. “There’s not a place for Houndoom to sleep in the house, and I don’t want her to be out here alone. And I also don’t want her trapped inside her Pokéball all the time.”
“That sounds like a great idea. Why don’t the two of you come inside so you can have some supper, and I’ll get a sleeping bag for you.”
“Thanks,” said Kenneth. He and Houndoom and his dad went inside.
———
Over the next couple of days, Kenneth alternated between writing and taking walks with Houndoom, trying to get her used to orienting herself without sound and used to being around larger amounts of people. He also put up a flyer on the Pokémon Center’s community bulletin board asking for anyone willing to teach him sign language so he could communicate with his deaf Pokémon.
Eventually, a man named Anthony Sparrow called Kenneth and invited him and Houndoom to his house for some introductory instruction in sign language. When Kenneth arrived at the door of a little green duplex and knocked, the door was opened by a little girl, about five, with yellow ribbons adorning her hair.
“Hi,” he said, “I’m looking for Anthony Sparrow. Is he here?”
“He’s my daddy,” the girl replied. “I’ll go get him.” She walked away, leaving the door open.
Kenneth politely waited on the doorstep until a man in his early thirties, with red hair and large ears, came to get him.
Kenneth and the red-haired man—Anthony—introduced themselves to each other and shook hands. “Go ahead and come in,” Anthony said.
He guided Kenneth into their modest living room while describing his family, including the little girl—his daughter, Melinda—and an older son, who was ten. “My son’s name is Gerald,” Anthony explained, “and he was born deaf. So my wife and I became fluent in sign language so we could teach it to our son. Even little Melinda has picked it up, and she’s really pretty good, despite her age. Though I’ve heard that it’s much easier for children to learn things like that than adults.”
Anthony invited Kenneth to sit down. “May I see your Houndoom?” he asked.
Kenneth obliged and sent out his Pokémon. Once Houndoom appeared, it immediately turned until it found where Kenneth was.
“And you plan to talk to it through sign language?” asked Anthony.
“I don’t know if it’s possible or not, but I felt that I needed to try.”
Houndoom sat on its haunches.
“Do you want to go ahead and start?” Anthony asked.
“Very much,” Kenneth replied.
“Good!” He began to introduce Kenneth to some of the basic elements of sign language and to debunking common misconceptions. He explained how signing involves more than just the hand and finger movements, but also the positioning of the hands in relation to the body, varying sizes of the same sign, and the importance of facial expressions. Houndoom had fallen into a doze, and Kenneth’s head was beginning to swim.
“There’s a lot more to this than I thought,” said Kenneth.
“That’s the way most people feel.”
Melinda’s voice interrupted them. “Daddy, may I have a snack?” She had entered the living room through the house’s one hallway.
“Sure!” Anthony said to her. To Kenneth he said, “Please excuse me for a minute.” He stood up from his chair.
Melinda noticed Houndoom on the other side of Kenneth’s seat. “Oh, a Pokémon!” she exclaimed, and ran over to it.
“Wait,” began Kenneth, “don’t startle—”, but Melinda had already reached out to pet Houndoom’s back.
At the touch, Houndoom snapped awake, then whipped around and gave two vicious barks at the little girl. She fell backwards and burst into tears. Immediately her father scooped her up and away from Houndoom and commanded, “Get that dog under control!”
Suddenly every negative emotion Kenneth had felt since he and Craig found Abigail channeled itself into Kenneth’s mouth. “It’s not her fault!” he said. “She couldn’t hear her coming!”
In an instant the ire of both men had escalated out of control. Houndoom recognized the ill will in the argument and began barking in earnest.
Kenneth shouted, “You should know better than to let your little girl sneak up on something that’s twice her size!” Melinda, held by her father, continued to cry.
“If you would train your dog properly it wouldn’t have lashed out at her in the first place!”
“And how am I supposed to train her if I can’t talk to her!”
Finally a woman’s voice cut into the fight, yelling, “Anthony!”
Anthony stopped in the middle of a sentence and looked around. Both he and Kenneth were shaking, but the woman—presumably Anthony’s wife—had broken the spell that united the men in fury. Once they stopped shouting Houndoom quieted as well, but the daughter’s crying continued.
The woman came fully into the room and spoke firmly again, but this time a little more softly. “All this yelling is only making things worse. Now please, be reasonable to the boy.”
Neither Kenneth nor Anthony said anything, but rather stood watching her and breathing heavily.
“Please calm down,” she told her husband, more quietly still. “And young man,” she added, speaking to Kenneth, “for the time being I think it would be best if you left us.”
All of a sudden Kenneth felt very small.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. He knelt in front of Houndoom, placed his hands on either side of its head, and looked in its eyes, saying, “Let’s go home.” He rose and opened the door, leading Houndoom and glancing back at the woman. She was watching him sternly, but not unkindly. Kenneth and Houndoom left the house.
Once the door shut, Kenneth stopped. A cool, salty breeze was blowing inland off the ocean, and seagulls were calling to one another in the partly-cloudy sky. Kenneth sat down on the Sparrows’ doorstep and set his elbows on his knees with his face in his hands. Houndoom watched him with its tail waving slowly.
I didn’t sign up for this, he thought. Catching another Pokémon was a stupid thing to do. Why did that girl have to get herself into trouble?
Another voice came into his mind and said, Dad wouldn’t mind. He’s good with all sorts of Pokémon. I should be more like him.
“But I’m not Dad,” he responded out loud. “I don’t know how to deal with stuff like this. This shouldn’t be my responsibility.”
With that last thought in his mind, Kenneth stood up and, without looking at Houndoom, set out through the town until he came to a long, yellow building with a sloped green room and a large fence-enclosed yard behind it.
The sign to the left of the door read, “Shelter”.
Kenneth tried not to look at Houndoom as he held the door open, but the Pokémon’s eyes caught his anyway. Kenneth involuntarily knitted his brows and furrowed his forehead, and quickly looked away. They walked in.
Inside the building were numerous short-walled stalls. Kenneth could see a number of Pokémon eating, sleeping, chittering, and squawking inside of them. A grey-haired man, shorter than Kenneth, was sweeping out the stall nearest him. He looked around when the door shut.
“Hello,” the man said, “come to adopt?” He paused in his sweeping.
“Er—no,” said Kenneth, “I need to—I can’t take care of this one anymore.” He would have gestured, but his hands were balled into fists at his sides, and his elbows were locked.
“I’ve seen you before,” said the grey-haired man. “You’re Roger the breeder’s son, aren’t you? He comes in here a lot.”
Kenneth nodded. He saw Houndoom looking up at him.
“So you can’t take care of your Houndoom anymore, eh? Why don’t you let your pop have him?”
“He doesn’t… he doesn’t know.”
“Doesn’t know you’re giving him away?”
Kenneth nodded again. “Her,” he whispered. “It’s a her.” Tears slipped out of his eyes and slid down his cheeks. He tightened his fists.
“It looks to me like you’re not really ready to give her up.”
“I don’t know how to…”
“How to what?”
“How to take care of her,” Kenneth said. The tears came more freely now but he didn’t wipe them away. Houndoom gave a whine.
“Look—son—” the shelter man said, “why don’t you take her back home with you and think about it for a couple of days?”
Kenneth only stood there.
“You’re pop’s got a lot of knowledge about taking care of creatures; I’ve talked to him.” Kenneth said nothing, so the man continued: “How about I let you out, okay?”
“Okay,” Kenneth whispered, as the man stepped over to his side, put a hand on his shoulder blade, and gently steered him around toward the door. He opened it for Kenneth, who stepped outside into the sunlight. Houndoom followed behind him, and the shelter man soundlessly closed the door.
Kenneth remained motionless for several moments, before saying out loud, “Please bear with me.”
Then, still without looking at the canine, he headed home.
