Pokemon: A Re-Imagining
Volume I: Breaking Away
Chapter 1: School's Out
Chapter 2: Portrait of the Pokemon Trainer as a Young Man
Chapter 3: The Birds & Bees
Chapter 4: Rock and Roll
Chapter 5: Moondance
Volume II: Out of the Blue
Chapter 6: Cool Cool Water
Chapter 7: Down Along the Cove
Chapter 8: Right as Rain
Chapter 9: Garden of Earthly Delights
Chapter 10: Firewater
Volume III: Shock and Awe
Chapter 11: Sail on Sailor
Chapter 12: I'm Your Fan
Chapter 13: Electroshock Therapy
Chapter 14: Crossroads
and more...
Introduction: The Beginning and Afterwards
I know specifically when and where I first heard of the cultural phenomenon known as Pokémon. It was circa 19997 or 1998, and I was a very young child in an art class. All the other kids were drawing Pokémon, but I was drawing the Japanese import that I identified with at that time: Godzilla.
Then, of course, the unstoppable pop culture juggernaut truly entered the American conscious (especially that of people my age), and soon I wanted, like many people my age, to have Pokémon. I very clearly remember a family trip to Morro Bay and the Winchester Mystery House where the Pocket Monsters were the only thing on my mind.
I remember when my uncle showed me a manga (we called them comic books back then) called 'The Electric Tale of Pikachu.' The episode was based on the Sabrina saga of the games/anime and was a legitimately spooky ghost story. I was hooked.
On Christmas, circa 1999, my brother and I got matching Gameboy Colors, and, of course, the game that made that system essential. He got red, I got blue, he picked Squirtle, I got Charmander, and so it begun.
I remember, very specifically, a Pokémon birthday party that I had in 3rd Grade. My mom made Gameboy cakes, and all the kids came over. I distinctly remember watching the first episode of the anime, and one kid looking at the Pidgey and saying that that was the Pidgey that would evolve into Ash’s Pidgeotto. Had we lived about a decade later, we would have said: “What a newb.”
And now, for some reason, ten years later, I’m drawn back to that bright unreal world full of fantastical creatures. Why? I don’t know. Perhaps an attempt to recapture some lost youth. Anyway, I had a compulsion to write about it, to re-interpret and re-imagine the Pokémon story. Some things are changed, but I hope that I’ve kept true to the spirit of the original.
Chapter 1: School’s Out Forever
The sun rising over the eastern mountains shone its rays of light down into Ash’s eyes. He opened them to be immersed in the dawning of a new day. He looked over at the clock. Fourteen minutes after seven. And then, freight train-like, it hit him what the day meant, and he jumped out of bed like a small child on Christmas morning.
He had spent the last eighteen years waiting and wishing for this day to come. He looked around, one last time, at his humble little bedroom, its window facing north where his adventures would take him. He looked at the colorful posters hanging on the wall, the well-worn desk with its disorganized pencils and papers, and the Nintendo 64 with its tangled Rattata’s nest of wires. He turned on the television. Three boys were walking down railroad tracks. All boys must leave home, he thought, and I’m leaving today, I’ll be on my way.
He rushed over to the shower, and then raced to brush his teeth and put on his black shirt, red-and-white jacket, blue jeans, and red hat. Ash then ran down the stairs to the first floor of his humble abode, a skip in his step, Butterfrees in his stomach.
He talked to his parents, seated at the kitchen table on the first floor. He paid attention to small details, all the little things that one would not notice unless they looked for them. This would be the last time he would see this room in a while. He took it all in.
Mom and Dad were overjoyed to see their son spread his wings and fly, but a hint of sadness filtered in as they contemplated the absence of the young man that they had spent the last eighteen years of their lives raising.
They gave him all the old clichés about growing up and finding his own way in the world, but he was not sure. Up to this point, he had thought that it was a sure thing: he was going to go out into the world and make his name as a Pokémon trainer. He looked to the north and saw the road stretch north to the horizon, which seemed an infinite distance away. It was going to be a long road.
Ash walked out the door and took one final look at home. It was a humble two-story house with thatched roof, fitting in well with the other houses in Pallet Town. He looked lovingly at its wattle-and-daub walls, its glass windows, its darkly varnished wooden doors, the flowers that Mom had planted last spring in the front yard. He could already tell that he was going to miss home.
Pallet perhaps would be better described as a village than a town. It was so small, in fact, that it only sent off half a dozen trainers this season to go out and make their way in the world. Around it stretched fields to the east and west, a pastoral farming community that served as the breadbasket of the area. Here, men and Pokémon worked in unison to plant, raise, and harvest crops from the good earth. It was a simple, honest existence.
There were a few big cities in the area to the east, places of commerce and industry, places removed to some degree from the earth itself. Here, on the other hand, people had a connection to the natural world because they were part of it.
Ash wore a heavy, bursting-to-the-brim green backpack, (his concerned, best-interests-at-heart Mom packed in anything that he would ever possibly need) and carried in his hands semi-tamed Pikachu. Pikachu was, until two nights ago, a denizen of the forest, living off the gifts of nature. An electric creature, it was found gnawing on the electric wires outside the Ketchum residence, trying to take some of the current for itself. Ash tried to capture the creature, which gave him a high-voltage electric shock. He eventually managed to get the creature to tolerate his presence, although it still preferred to live free of the confines of a Pokeball.
He needed a starting Pokémon to begin his journey, to leave home and venture forth to the world beyond Pallet Town, to challenge other trainers and hopefully win a name for himself. He had been dreaming of this day for his entire life.
This quest was a traditional rite of passage, akin to the walkabout of the aboriginal Australians. In theory, a young person would journey out and find valuable life experiences. In practice, the vast majority of young trainers would run crying home after a few hours, unable to deal with the harsh realities of the cruel, cruel world.
Those that succeeded, however, had the chance for fortune and fame as professional Pokémon trainers, the opportunity to compete in prestigious tournaments with a national audience. Ash knew he had a long way to go.
He opened up the latch on the gate which kept the wild creatures out of the village, and walked out towards Professor Oak’s lab, a sizeable two-story building that stood on a hill to the south of town. It was a blue-roofed structure with circular windows, constructed from dusty red brick.
Professor Oak was probably Pallet Town’s most famous son. A world-famous authority on Pokémon, he began his career as a self-confessed failure as a trainer, he turned to academic study, where he excelled, earning a degree from Cerulean City University. He then began his life’s work, an epic project that combined all the known data about the various Pokémon species and placed all the knowledge in an encyclopedia.
It was the first edition of the Pokémon Encyclopedia that made the professor a household name. After a distinguished academic career, he settled down in the town of Pallet to be with his family and continue with his study. He continued to publish books about Pokémon, including "Tangela’d up in Blue", "The Taming of the Sandshrew", and "Do Magnemites Dream of Electric Sheep"?
Oak’s lab stood out as a decidedly modern building in a rustic area. Here, Oak and his several apprentices lived, conducted experiments, and studied Pokémon brought in from around the world by trainers and scientists.
Ash saw his fellow trainers already patiently waited at the door for the professor to make his appearance. There were five of them, three boys, two girls, all of them looking forward to leaving home and seeing the whole wide world. Pallet Town, a great place to grow up in, was far too sleepy and quiet for a young person with dreams of fortune and fame.
Ash looked around at all his fellow trainers who were leaving today. They looked very young and unprepared to leave home so suddenly. He remembered the other crops of trainers that Pallet had sent out. All of them were back in town, working as farmers or merchants. In fact, Pallet hadn’t contributed a professional trainer to the Pokémon League since Ash was a 10 year-old boy, and that trainer barely lasted a season in League competition.
“Oh, isn’t that Pikachu so cute?” asked Hazel, a brown-haired, brown-eyed girl with a small pink Jigglypuff in her arms.
“Yeah, I wish I had it!” responded Sara, with long blonde hair, pale blue eyes, and a smile on her face.
“I see you finally caught a Pokémon,” replied Ash’s hated rival, Gary, who was also the grandson of Professor Oak. They both hated each other with a passion, but neither of them really knew where it all started.
Gary did not do anything to help mend bridges between them. He walked around with a sneering face that seemingly begged for a slapping hand, and his hair was so sharply spiked that it could potentially impale small birds. He wore an arrogant outfit of black t-shirt, necklace with meaningless symbol, tight black jeans and aforementioned spiked hair dyed red-purple.
“It took you long enough,” he continued.
“Hey, at least I caught one, and didn’t just take the family pet and call it my starter Pokémon.”
“At least my Eevee is tamed and obeys my orders. You can’t even convince your Pikachu to get into a Pokeball!”
“Because it hasn’t been raised and conditioned to be domestic and docile! Pikachu still has a wild streak!”
“Just like boys,” said Hazel to Sara, “While they bicker amongst themselves, Jigglypuff and I are going to become league champions.”
“Well,” said Gary to Ash, “If you’re confidant in your Pikachu’s abilities, I challenge you to a Pokémon battle.”
An invitation to a Pokémon battle was not something that was turned down, period. To decline would be a social faux pas of catastrophic proportions.
It ultimately evolved from war, when Pokémon where used as devastating weapons, and when the loser of a battle would end up charred, crushed, poisoned, or encased in a block of ice. Just like the dueling and jousting of the medieval era, a somewhat organized and tamed simulation of Poke-warfare became a way to settle disputes amongst noblemen. Gradually, the Pokémon duels evolved into a sport, and gyms (originally established under the patronage of aristocratic families) became the focal point of the game.
Soon, Pokémon battling became an incredibly popular spectator sport, its tournaments attended by thousands and followed by many more with ears glued to the radio and eyes to the television. In the modern rendition, neither creature nor trainer were in danger, and any trainer who contributed to the death of a Pokémon in the ring would be banned from the league for life and would be at the mercy of an unorganized, woefully understaffed police department.
Ash and Gary squared off, leaving ten feet or so of closely trimmed grass between them for the battle to take place. The others gathered around them in a loose circle, eager to see their first real Pokémon battle in person. It would not have been out of place for them to have started chanting ‘Fight! Fight! Fight!’ schoolyard-style.
“Go, Eevee!” yelled Gary, hurling his Pokeball like a baseball pitcher. The red-and-white ball bounced on the ground and unleashed a small brown-and-cream colored doglike Pokémon that uttered a small bark.
“I choose you, Pikachu!” shouted Ash to the yellow electrically charged mouse that lounged before him on the grass. It lay there, seemingly oblivious to the call to battle.
“Come on, Pikachu!” shouted Ash, “It’s time to battle!”
Pikachu was motionless.
“Pikachu, use your thundershock attack!”
It stood still.
“Look at that, everybody,” stated Gary with an egotistic grin, “Ash can’t even get a yellow mouse to follow his commands!”
“Dammit, Pikachu! You’re making me look like complete and utter IDIOT in front of everyone! Get off your ass and do something!”
“Ash,” said Gary, “Must be the worst trainer in the history of competitive Pokémon battling! Sorry, Pikachu, but I’m going to have to put you out of your misery. Eevee, quick-attack!”
The other trainers looked on as Eevee ran quickly at the electric mouse and knocked it over.
“Oh!” they shouted as it looked like Ash would be ridiculed in his first ever battle. Eevee returned to its trainer for further instruction, betraying its domestic origins.
The attack seemed to shake Pikachu out of its malaise, and the electric creature jumped onto its feet and growled its name at its opponent. Small sparks flared from its red cheeks, and then a large electric spark flew through the moist conducting air at Eevee, then surged through the unfortunate former pet into the ground.
Gary’s Pokémon fainted, and the trainer was left with the humiliation of having to return the failed Pokémon to its Pokeball. The other trainers clapped, as none of them really liked the young punk Gary, but all of them enjoyed seeing a fellow trainer having to eat his words.
“Great job, Pikachu!” shouted Ash, jumping off the floor with the joy of his first ever victory. “What do you think about that, Gary?”
“Great-you won a single battle. You still can’t control your Pikachu-it only attacked because it was hurt by my Eevee.”
“That’s not true-Pikachu respects and trusts me as its trainer.”
“Sure.”
“All right Ash!” shouted the other trainers, who genuinely liked their friend and neighbor.
The laboratory’s double doors flung open, and Professor Oak invited the would-be trainers in. The salt-and-pepper haired professor wore a spotlessly white lab coat, a pale pink dress shirt, and slacks, looking like the stereotypical sleazy old man.
He was excited to send a half dozen or so young people from his town out into the world to begin their Pokémon quests, but he was also worried, more worried than one usually feels when they send clueless young men/women out into a big, bad world full of dangerous creature with strange powers, with only the family pet to protect them.
Oak, an addicted reader of trash tabloids, had read of a gang of criminals called ‘Team Rocket’, an organized criminal organization with aims to take control of the entire region. (He had also read several conflicting reports about Elite Four Lance’s sexuality, but that’s neither here nor there.) He thought twice about sending the novice trainers out into the world in a time of gangs and criminality, but decided that snot-nosed 18 year-olds (not any police agency, government bureau, or idealistic superhero crusader) were the best hope for dealing with the rocket menace.
“Hello, Ash, Gary, Hazel, Timmy, Johnny, Sarah. This is a big day for you. Come on in, I want to give you something before you go.”
They walked into the tiled room, bookshelves on all the walls. Random computer equipment lay disorganized on the floor. Oak had on a desk in front of them six small red electronic devices reminiscent of game boys or cell phones.
“This is my newest invention,” he said proudly, “The Pokedex. It is a portable database with basic information about the creatures that you will meet on your travels. Just point it at the Pokémon in question and press this button and it will identify the creature and give you some basic information.”
“Thank you,” said the wannabe trainers in unison.
“There’s one problem,” said the professor in an extremely serious voice. “It’s incomplete. I know that there are more Pokémon out there, but I can’t go find them in my old age. So that is why I’m calling on you. You are going to live my dream for me.”
“Don’t worry, everyone,” said Gary, “I’ll take care of it all by myself. Especially you, Ash. You’ll have a hard enough time with that Pikachu of yours.”
“Hey, my Pikachu defeated your Eevee in battle!” Ash responded to Gary’s mindless ego trip.
“That was a fluke!” Gary yelled.
“Let’s stop bickering,” said the Professor, acting as the voice of reason. “You should be happy-your story is just beginning! You have a whole world waiting for you to explore it! Now, you have independence and freedom, a chance to write your own story!
Before you leave, I would like to give you just a little bit of advice. The world is a great place to go out and discover, but it is also home to people who you can’t trust. You’ve all been told to not talk to strangers. Well, you can talk to strangers, but be careful. Some strangers are people that you really shouldn’t talk to. You may encounter a criminal organization called ‘Team Rocket’ a group of thieves, gangsters, and thugs who are dedicated to using Pokémon for their own insidious purposes. Be careful.”
“We’ll just have to defeat Team Rocket,” said Ash with all the confidence of a would-be hero.
“What are you thinking Ash? If you mess with gangsters, you’ll be sleeping with the Magikarp! Do you honestly think that you’ll be able to take them down?” asked Gary.
“I guess not…”
“Why don’t you wait until you’re older and more experienced before you go off trying to save the world? I wish all of you the best of luck in your adventures. Be sure to call old Professor Oak once in a while and tell me about the great new things you’ve discovered, okay?”
“Sure,” they all said, many of them with no desire to keep in contact with the old professor.
“Well, it seems like your adventure is about to begin. Seeing all you young people go out makes me feel young again,” said Oak, slightly teary-eyed.
“Goodbye,” said everybody in unison.
“Wait,” said the Professor. “Could you do one more thing for me? Let’s get a group picture of all of you going out to make your way in the world!”
“Do we have to?” asked the young people.
“Yes. Please indulge a sentimental old man.”
The young trainers and Professor Oak assembled in front of the lab in a line, smiling and united for the last time in awhile. Professor Oak’s reluctant aide snapped the shot, and then the group disassembled and went on their separate ways after saying goodbye.
Ash said goodbye to all his fellow trainers, and promised to meet up with them sometime on his adventure. He went back home and said a final goodbye to his mother and father, made sure that he had all his things, and walked back out into the sunshine, where Gary’s older sister May was waiting for him.
She was two years older than Ash and his cronies, with dark hair and moonbeams in her dark eyes. Ash blushed as she walked up to him. He had always had a crush on her, as she was the sexually attractive older girl in the neighborhood.
“Best of luck on your quest, Ash!”
“Thanks,” he said, smiling back at her, blushing.
“I have something for you, Ash.”
“What is it?”
“My brother told me not to give you a town map, but when do I ever listen to him? Take this map.”
“Thank you,” he replied somewhat awkwardly. “This, uh, this, this will really help me out.”
“You’re welcome. I’m happy to help,” she replied.
“Yeah, thank you so much,” he replied as beads of sweat rolled down his hands.
“Why’ll you’re out so far from home, you want to write me a letter every once in a while, let me know how you’re doing?”
“I’d be glad to,” he said.
“Goodbye.”
“Bye.”
Ash walked away as if on air, happy that the pretty older girl that he had a crush on wished HIM good luck! He reflected on his day. He had defeated Gary, gotten a gift from his hot older sister, and now he had freedom and independence. Great day, he thought.
He stood in the center of town and looked one last time at his home for the last 18 years, the sheltered place he grew up in, the bright and shining world that made him. To him, it was much more than a rural farming community. He knew that he was leaving everything that was comforting and familiar. Ash looked towards the horizon to the north, to the vast land beyond the town’s stone fence, and realized how much he would miss it all.
In the middle of his nostalgia and pining for the childhood innocence now gone, Ash was interrupted by an obese man, who walked up to him and began babbling about the wonders of technology.
“Isn’t technology incredible?” he asked, making intense and uncomfortable eye contact, “Did you know that Pokémon can be stored as electronic data and transported over the internet?”
“I did know that, in fact,” said Ash, unaware of where the conversation was going.
“Technology is great, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, I’m a big fan.”
Ash walked away slowly, Pikachu at his tail. Ash unlatched the gate that divided Pallet Town from the rest of the region, and the two of them began walking north on Route 1. The area shone with Arcadian rural charm, scattered trees in the foreground, fields in the background and distant mountains beyond that. The dirt path through tall grass route could not be properly called a road. Ash remembered a heavy rainfall a few years ago that turned the trail into impassable mud and cut off Pallet for a time.
Ash had a spring in his step as he walked alongside his Pokémon. It was springtime, the sun was shining, the sky was blue, the wind blew through the tree branches, and all was right with the world. It was enough to make anyone want to start whistling a happy song.
Suddenly, Ash heard a rustling in from behind him. He turned around and saw a small bird Pokémon fly into view and perch on a nearby tree branch. Ash knew it was a Pidgey, a very common creature in the area, and a creature that (when domesticated) made a good dinner. He pulled out the red Pokedex to see how it worked. He pointed the device at the Pidgey and pressed a green button.
“Pidgey,” said the Pokedex through a speaker in a monotone robotic voice, “Is a very common normal/flying type Pokémon that usually lives in forests and fields. Its diet consists of small bugs. When angered, it flaps its wings at ground level to kick up blinding sand.”
“Seems like a worthy opponent, Pikachu. Why don’t you show him the power of your thundershock attack?”
“Pika?” asked the creature, unaware or unwilling to follow its trainer’s orders.
“See that Pidgey?” asked Ash, pointing, “I want you to attack it.”
“Pika,” it sighed.
“As your trainer, I tell you what to do."
“Pika.”
“Don’t’ you respect me as your trainer?”
“Pika.”
“Don’t you respect me as a being of superior intelligence to you?”
“Pika.”
“Look, we’re going to have to work together if we’re going to go anywhere.”
“Pika.”
Ash looked up to see the Pidgey flying away.
“Look-it got away!All because of you!"
Ash turned back around to see his backpack moving on the green grass, as if life was breathed into it. He ran up to it, and a small purple rat scurried away.
“Get out of there!” he yelled.
He pulled out the Pokedex, typed in the word ‘Rattata’, and pressed the ‘enter’ button.
“Rattata is a very common normal-type Pokémon that bites when it is attacked. Small and quick, it is able to adapt to many environments because it will eat almost anything edible.”
Ash looked up from the screen to see the Rattata rifling through his backpack again. It retreated, and the angered trainer grabbed a rock from the ground and threw it in the general direction of the Rattata. He did not hit the pesky rodent, who disappeared into the undergrowth of a small copse of trees on the side of the road. Ash trudged on, with even his own Pikachu’s unwillingness to battle two wild Pokémon.
It was the afternoon, and the sun was leaving its throne at the center of the open sky. The dirt path narrowed, and the tall grass leaned in, brushing their backs and hair. They had made good progress on the dirt road, and the increase in vegetation on the roadside told Ash that they were nearing Viridian City. He felt his backpack weigh him heavily down into the earth. He was going to have to lighten his load. The gentle sounds of a babbling stream reached their ears.
Ash saw a glint of metal ten yards into the distance. He ran up to it to find that the object in question was a red bicycle lying on its side on the grass. He looked around to see if the owner of the bike was anywhere to be found. There was not, and Ash decided to take advantage of the opportunity presented to him.
He got on the bike, placed Pikachu on his shoulder, and began peddling north, happy and carefree, whistling ‘Bicycle Built for Two.’ Suddenly, the bike did the exact thing that one does not expect a bicycle to do- the wheel exploded! Thrown by the blast, Ash blacked out.
He came to his senses a few minutes later. He opened his eyes slowly, and saw a redheaded girl about his age standing over him.
“What happened?” he asked slowly.
“Why don’t you explain that to me?” she asked accusingly. “Look at my brand new bike-it’s a wreck! What did you do to my bike?”
“It exploded,” Ash stated matter-of-factly.
“It exploded,” she repeated incredulously.
“It did,” he replied to the girl that was suddenly screaming banshee-like at him.
“Well, it makes no difference what happened to my bike. All I know is that you’re going to pay me back for the bike. It cost me a ton, and I just got it a week ago. You’re going to have to”-
“Pikachu!” Ash interrupted. “Where’s Pikachu? Is it okay?”
“You have a Pikachu?”
“Yes-it was with me. Oh, I hope that it’s okay,” he said, worried, as he got up and began the search for his Pokémon. After a few seconds, he saw a fat yellow shape lying in the green grass. He picked up the Pikachu and saw that it was unconscious.
“Pikachu! Pikachu! Are you okay? Oh, please, Pikachu, wake up!”
It was motionless, with only the gentle rhythm of its breathing telling Ash that it was still alive. His face was flushed and his mind was fogged with worry.
“Quick,” said the girl, “We have to get your Pikachu to a Pokémon Center. There’s one in Viridian City.”
Ash ran towards Viridian with the girl, his Pikachu in his arms. They saw the town in the distance, an arts-and-crafts/log cabin-style town on the outskirts of a dark green pine forest. They ran past the grass, trees, houses, and people to the Pokémon Center, a white, modern, red-roofed building that stood out from the houses and other buildings in the city, hurrying, running as fast as they could, the whole surrounding earth a blur, the whole world melting into anxiety. Ash and the girl ran inside the door.
Volume I: Breaking Away
Chapter 1: School's Out
Chapter 2: Portrait of the Pokemon Trainer as a Young Man
Chapter 3: The Birds & Bees
Chapter 4: Rock and Roll
Chapter 5: Moondance
Volume II: Out of the Blue
Chapter 6: Cool Cool Water
Chapter 7: Down Along the Cove
Chapter 8: Right as Rain
Chapter 9: Garden of Earthly Delights
Chapter 10: Firewater
Volume III: Shock and Awe
Chapter 11: Sail on Sailor
Chapter 12: I'm Your Fan
Chapter 13: Electroshock Therapy
Chapter 14: Crossroads
and more...
Introduction: The Beginning and Afterwards
I know specifically when and where I first heard of the cultural phenomenon known as Pokémon. It was circa 19997 or 1998, and I was a very young child in an art class. All the other kids were drawing Pokémon, but I was drawing the Japanese import that I identified with at that time: Godzilla.
Then, of course, the unstoppable pop culture juggernaut truly entered the American conscious (especially that of people my age), and soon I wanted, like many people my age, to have Pokémon. I very clearly remember a family trip to Morro Bay and the Winchester Mystery House where the Pocket Monsters were the only thing on my mind.
I remember when my uncle showed me a manga (we called them comic books back then) called 'The Electric Tale of Pikachu.' The episode was based on the Sabrina saga of the games/anime and was a legitimately spooky ghost story. I was hooked.
On Christmas, circa 1999, my brother and I got matching Gameboy Colors, and, of course, the game that made that system essential. He got red, I got blue, he picked Squirtle, I got Charmander, and so it begun.
I remember, very specifically, a Pokémon birthday party that I had in 3rd Grade. My mom made Gameboy cakes, and all the kids came over. I distinctly remember watching the first episode of the anime, and one kid looking at the Pidgey and saying that that was the Pidgey that would evolve into Ash’s Pidgeotto. Had we lived about a decade later, we would have said: “What a newb.”
And now, for some reason, ten years later, I’m drawn back to that bright unreal world full of fantastical creatures. Why? I don’t know. Perhaps an attempt to recapture some lost youth. Anyway, I had a compulsion to write about it, to re-interpret and re-imagine the Pokémon story. Some things are changed, but I hope that I’ve kept true to the spirit of the original.
Chapter 1: School’s Out Forever
The sun rising over the eastern mountains shone its rays of light down into Ash’s eyes. He opened them to be immersed in the dawning of a new day. He looked over at the clock. Fourteen minutes after seven. And then, freight train-like, it hit him what the day meant, and he jumped out of bed like a small child on Christmas morning.
He had spent the last eighteen years waiting and wishing for this day to come. He looked around, one last time, at his humble little bedroom, its window facing north where his adventures would take him. He looked at the colorful posters hanging on the wall, the well-worn desk with its disorganized pencils and papers, and the Nintendo 64 with its tangled Rattata’s nest of wires. He turned on the television. Three boys were walking down railroad tracks. All boys must leave home, he thought, and I’m leaving today, I’ll be on my way.
He rushed over to the shower, and then raced to brush his teeth and put on his black shirt, red-and-white jacket, blue jeans, and red hat. Ash then ran down the stairs to the first floor of his humble abode, a skip in his step, Butterfrees in his stomach.
He talked to his parents, seated at the kitchen table on the first floor. He paid attention to small details, all the little things that one would not notice unless they looked for them. This would be the last time he would see this room in a while. He took it all in.
Mom and Dad were overjoyed to see their son spread his wings and fly, but a hint of sadness filtered in as they contemplated the absence of the young man that they had spent the last eighteen years of their lives raising.
They gave him all the old clichés about growing up and finding his own way in the world, but he was not sure. Up to this point, he had thought that it was a sure thing: he was going to go out into the world and make his name as a Pokémon trainer. He looked to the north and saw the road stretch north to the horizon, which seemed an infinite distance away. It was going to be a long road.
Ash walked out the door and took one final look at home. It was a humble two-story house with thatched roof, fitting in well with the other houses in Pallet Town. He looked lovingly at its wattle-and-daub walls, its glass windows, its darkly varnished wooden doors, the flowers that Mom had planted last spring in the front yard. He could already tell that he was going to miss home.
Pallet perhaps would be better described as a village than a town. It was so small, in fact, that it only sent off half a dozen trainers this season to go out and make their way in the world. Around it stretched fields to the east and west, a pastoral farming community that served as the breadbasket of the area. Here, men and Pokémon worked in unison to plant, raise, and harvest crops from the good earth. It was a simple, honest existence.
There were a few big cities in the area to the east, places of commerce and industry, places removed to some degree from the earth itself. Here, on the other hand, people had a connection to the natural world because they were part of it.
Ash wore a heavy, bursting-to-the-brim green backpack, (his concerned, best-interests-at-heart Mom packed in anything that he would ever possibly need) and carried in his hands semi-tamed Pikachu. Pikachu was, until two nights ago, a denizen of the forest, living off the gifts of nature. An electric creature, it was found gnawing on the electric wires outside the Ketchum residence, trying to take some of the current for itself. Ash tried to capture the creature, which gave him a high-voltage electric shock. He eventually managed to get the creature to tolerate his presence, although it still preferred to live free of the confines of a Pokeball.
He needed a starting Pokémon to begin his journey, to leave home and venture forth to the world beyond Pallet Town, to challenge other trainers and hopefully win a name for himself. He had been dreaming of this day for his entire life.
This quest was a traditional rite of passage, akin to the walkabout of the aboriginal Australians. In theory, a young person would journey out and find valuable life experiences. In practice, the vast majority of young trainers would run crying home after a few hours, unable to deal with the harsh realities of the cruel, cruel world.
Those that succeeded, however, had the chance for fortune and fame as professional Pokémon trainers, the opportunity to compete in prestigious tournaments with a national audience. Ash knew he had a long way to go.
He opened up the latch on the gate which kept the wild creatures out of the village, and walked out towards Professor Oak’s lab, a sizeable two-story building that stood on a hill to the south of town. It was a blue-roofed structure with circular windows, constructed from dusty red brick.
Professor Oak was probably Pallet Town’s most famous son. A world-famous authority on Pokémon, he began his career as a self-confessed failure as a trainer, he turned to academic study, where he excelled, earning a degree from Cerulean City University. He then began his life’s work, an epic project that combined all the known data about the various Pokémon species and placed all the knowledge in an encyclopedia.
It was the first edition of the Pokémon Encyclopedia that made the professor a household name. After a distinguished academic career, he settled down in the town of Pallet to be with his family and continue with his study. He continued to publish books about Pokémon, including "Tangela’d up in Blue", "The Taming of the Sandshrew", and "Do Magnemites Dream of Electric Sheep"?
Oak’s lab stood out as a decidedly modern building in a rustic area. Here, Oak and his several apprentices lived, conducted experiments, and studied Pokémon brought in from around the world by trainers and scientists.
Ash saw his fellow trainers already patiently waited at the door for the professor to make his appearance. There were five of them, three boys, two girls, all of them looking forward to leaving home and seeing the whole wide world. Pallet Town, a great place to grow up in, was far too sleepy and quiet for a young person with dreams of fortune and fame.
Ash looked around at all his fellow trainers who were leaving today. They looked very young and unprepared to leave home so suddenly. He remembered the other crops of trainers that Pallet had sent out. All of them were back in town, working as farmers or merchants. In fact, Pallet hadn’t contributed a professional trainer to the Pokémon League since Ash was a 10 year-old boy, and that trainer barely lasted a season in League competition.
“Oh, isn’t that Pikachu so cute?” asked Hazel, a brown-haired, brown-eyed girl with a small pink Jigglypuff in her arms.
“Yeah, I wish I had it!” responded Sara, with long blonde hair, pale blue eyes, and a smile on her face.
“I see you finally caught a Pokémon,” replied Ash’s hated rival, Gary, who was also the grandson of Professor Oak. They both hated each other with a passion, but neither of them really knew where it all started.
Gary did not do anything to help mend bridges between them. He walked around with a sneering face that seemingly begged for a slapping hand, and his hair was so sharply spiked that it could potentially impale small birds. He wore an arrogant outfit of black t-shirt, necklace with meaningless symbol, tight black jeans and aforementioned spiked hair dyed red-purple.
“It took you long enough,” he continued.
“Hey, at least I caught one, and didn’t just take the family pet and call it my starter Pokémon.”
“At least my Eevee is tamed and obeys my orders. You can’t even convince your Pikachu to get into a Pokeball!”
“Because it hasn’t been raised and conditioned to be domestic and docile! Pikachu still has a wild streak!”
“Just like boys,” said Hazel to Sara, “While they bicker amongst themselves, Jigglypuff and I are going to become league champions.”
“Well,” said Gary to Ash, “If you’re confidant in your Pikachu’s abilities, I challenge you to a Pokémon battle.”
An invitation to a Pokémon battle was not something that was turned down, period. To decline would be a social faux pas of catastrophic proportions.
It ultimately evolved from war, when Pokémon where used as devastating weapons, and when the loser of a battle would end up charred, crushed, poisoned, or encased in a block of ice. Just like the dueling and jousting of the medieval era, a somewhat organized and tamed simulation of Poke-warfare became a way to settle disputes amongst noblemen. Gradually, the Pokémon duels evolved into a sport, and gyms (originally established under the patronage of aristocratic families) became the focal point of the game.
Soon, Pokémon battling became an incredibly popular spectator sport, its tournaments attended by thousands and followed by many more with ears glued to the radio and eyes to the television. In the modern rendition, neither creature nor trainer were in danger, and any trainer who contributed to the death of a Pokémon in the ring would be banned from the league for life and would be at the mercy of an unorganized, woefully understaffed police department.
Ash and Gary squared off, leaving ten feet or so of closely trimmed grass between them for the battle to take place. The others gathered around them in a loose circle, eager to see their first real Pokémon battle in person. It would not have been out of place for them to have started chanting ‘Fight! Fight! Fight!’ schoolyard-style.
“Go, Eevee!” yelled Gary, hurling his Pokeball like a baseball pitcher. The red-and-white ball bounced on the ground and unleashed a small brown-and-cream colored doglike Pokémon that uttered a small bark.
“I choose you, Pikachu!” shouted Ash to the yellow electrically charged mouse that lounged before him on the grass. It lay there, seemingly oblivious to the call to battle.
“Come on, Pikachu!” shouted Ash, “It’s time to battle!”
Pikachu was motionless.
“Pikachu, use your thundershock attack!”
It stood still.
“Look at that, everybody,” stated Gary with an egotistic grin, “Ash can’t even get a yellow mouse to follow his commands!”
“Dammit, Pikachu! You’re making me look like complete and utter IDIOT in front of everyone! Get off your ass and do something!”
“Ash,” said Gary, “Must be the worst trainer in the history of competitive Pokémon battling! Sorry, Pikachu, but I’m going to have to put you out of your misery. Eevee, quick-attack!”
The other trainers looked on as Eevee ran quickly at the electric mouse and knocked it over.
“Oh!” they shouted as it looked like Ash would be ridiculed in his first ever battle. Eevee returned to its trainer for further instruction, betraying its domestic origins.
The attack seemed to shake Pikachu out of its malaise, and the electric creature jumped onto its feet and growled its name at its opponent. Small sparks flared from its red cheeks, and then a large electric spark flew through the moist conducting air at Eevee, then surged through the unfortunate former pet into the ground.
Gary’s Pokémon fainted, and the trainer was left with the humiliation of having to return the failed Pokémon to its Pokeball. The other trainers clapped, as none of them really liked the young punk Gary, but all of them enjoyed seeing a fellow trainer having to eat his words.
“Great job, Pikachu!” shouted Ash, jumping off the floor with the joy of his first ever victory. “What do you think about that, Gary?”
“Great-you won a single battle. You still can’t control your Pikachu-it only attacked because it was hurt by my Eevee.”
“That’s not true-Pikachu respects and trusts me as its trainer.”
“Sure.”
“All right Ash!” shouted the other trainers, who genuinely liked their friend and neighbor.
The laboratory’s double doors flung open, and Professor Oak invited the would-be trainers in. The salt-and-pepper haired professor wore a spotlessly white lab coat, a pale pink dress shirt, and slacks, looking like the stereotypical sleazy old man.
He was excited to send a half dozen or so young people from his town out into the world to begin their Pokémon quests, but he was also worried, more worried than one usually feels when they send clueless young men/women out into a big, bad world full of dangerous creature with strange powers, with only the family pet to protect them.
Oak, an addicted reader of trash tabloids, had read of a gang of criminals called ‘Team Rocket’, an organized criminal organization with aims to take control of the entire region. (He had also read several conflicting reports about Elite Four Lance’s sexuality, but that’s neither here nor there.) He thought twice about sending the novice trainers out into the world in a time of gangs and criminality, but decided that snot-nosed 18 year-olds (not any police agency, government bureau, or idealistic superhero crusader) were the best hope for dealing with the rocket menace.
“Hello, Ash, Gary, Hazel, Timmy, Johnny, Sarah. This is a big day for you. Come on in, I want to give you something before you go.”
They walked into the tiled room, bookshelves on all the walls. Random computer equipment lay disorganized on the floor. Oak had on a desk in front of them six small red electronic devices reminiscent of game boys or cell phones.
“This is my newest invention,” he said proudly, “The Pokedex. It is a portable database with basic information about the creatures that you will meet on your travels. Just point it at the Pokémon in question and press this button and it will identify the creature and give you some basic information.”
“Thank you,” said the wannabe trainers in unison.
“There’s one problem,” said the professor in an extremely serious voice. “It’s incomplete. I know that there are more Pokémon out there, but I can’t go find them in my old age. So that is why I’m calling on you. You are going to live my dream for me.”
“Don’t worry, everyone,” said Gary, “I’ll take care of it all by myself. Especially you, Ash. You’ll have a hard enough time with that Pikachu of yours.”
“Hey, my Pikachu defeated your Eevee in battle!” Ash responded to Gary’s mindless ego trip.
“That was a fluke!” Gary yelled.
“Let’s stop bickering,” said the Professor, acting as the voice of reason. “You should be happy-your story is just beginning! You have a whole world waiting for you to explore it! Now, you have independence and freedom, a chance to write your own story!
Before you leave, I would like to give you just a little bit of advice. The world is a great place to go out and discover, but it is also home to people who you can’t trust. You’ve all been told to not talk to strangers. Well, you can talk to strangers, but be careful. Some strangers are people that you really shouldn’t talk to. You may encounter a criminal organization called ‘Team Rocket’ a group of thieves, gangsters, and thugs who are dedicated to using Pokémon for their own insidious purposes. Be careful.”
“We’ll just have to defeat Team Rocket,” said Ash with all the confidence of a would-be hero.
“What are you thinking Ash? If you mess with gangsters, you’ll be sleeping with the Magikarp! Do you honestly think that you’ll be able to take them down?” asked Gary.
“I guess not…”
“Why don’t you wait until you’re older and more experienced before you go off trying to save the world? I wish all of you the best of luck in your adventures. Be sure to call old Professor Oak once in a while and tell me about the great new things you’ve discovered, okay?”
“Sure,” they all said, many of them with no desire to keep in contact with the old professor.
“Well, it seems like your adventure is about to begin. Seeing all you young people go out makes me feel young again,” said Oak, slightly teary-eyed.
“Goodbye,” said everybody in unison.
“Wait,” said the Professor. “Could you do one more thing for me? Let’s get a group picture of all of you going out to make your way in the world!”
“Do we have to?” asked the young people.
“Yes. Please indulge a sentimental old man.”
The young trainers and Professor Oak assembled in front of the lab in a line, smiling and united for the last time in awhile. Professor Oak’s reluctant aide snapped the shot, and then the group disassembled and went on their separate ways after saying goodbye.
Ash said goodbye to all his fellow trainers, and promised to meet up with them sometime on his adventure. He went back home and said a final goodbye to his mother and father, made sure that he had all his things, and walked back out into the sunshine, where Gary’s older sister May was waiting for him.
She was two years older than Ash and his cronies, with dark hair and moonbeams in her dark eyes. Ash blushed as she walked up to him. He had always had a crush on her, as she was the sexually attractive older girl in the neighborhood.
“Best of luck on your quest, Ash!”
“Thanks,” he said, smiling back at her, blushing.
“I have something for you, Ash.”
“What is it?”
“My brother told me not to give you a town map, but when do I ever listen to him? Take this map.”
“Thank you,” he replied somewhat awkwardly. “This, uh, this, this will really help me out.”
“You’re welcome. I’m happy to help,” she replied.
“Yeah, thank you so much,” he replied as beads of sweat rolled down his hands.
“Why’ll you’re out so far from home, you want to write me a letter every once in a while, let me know how you’re doing?”
“I’d be glad to,” he said.
“Goodbye.”
“Bye.”
Ash walked away as if on air, happy that the pretty older girl that he had a crush on wished HIM good luck! He reflected on his day. He had defeated Gary, gotten a gift from his hot older sister, and now he had freedom and independence. Great day, he thought.
He stood in the center of town and looked one last time at his home for the last 18 years, the sheltered place he grew up in, the bright and shining world that made him. To him, it was much more than a rural farming community. He knew that he was leaving everything that was comforting and familiar. Ash looked towards the horizon to the north, to the vast land beyond the town’s stone fence, and realized how much he would miss it all.
In the middle of his nostalgia and pining for the childhood innocence now gone, Ash was interrupted by an obese man, who walked up to him and began babbling about the wonders of technology.
“Isn’t technology incredible?” he asked, making intense and uncomfortable eye contact, “Did you know that Pokémon can be stored as electronic data and transported over the internet?”
“I did know that, in fact,” said Ash, unaware of where the conversation was going.
“Technology is great, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, I’m a big fan.”
Ash walked away slowly, Pikachu at his tail. Ash unlatched the gate that divided Pallet Town from the rest of the region, and the two of them began walking north on Route 1. The area shone with Arcadian rural charm, scattered trees in the foreground, fields in the background and distant mountains beyond that. The dirt path through tall grass route could not be properly called a road. Ash remembered a heavy rainfall a few years ago that turned the trail into impassable mud and cut off Pallet for a time.
Ash had a spring in his step as he walked alongside his Pokémon. It was springtime, the sun was shining, the sky was blue, the wind blew through the tree branches, and all was right with the world. It was enough to make anyone want to start whistling a happy song.
Suddenly, Ash heard a rustling in from behind him. He turned around and saw a small bird Pokémon fly into view and perch on a nearby tree branch. Ash knew it was a Pidgey, a very common creature in the area, and a creature that (when domesticated) made a good dinner. He pulled out the red Pokedex to see how it worked. He pointed the device at the Pidgey and pressed a green button.
“Pidgey,” said the Pokedex through a speaker in a monotone robotic voice, “Is a very common normal/flying type Pokémon that usually lives in forests and fields. Its diet consists of small bugs. When angered, it flaps its wings at ground level to kick up blinding sand.”
“Seems like a worthy opponent, Pikachu. Why don’t you show him the power of your thundershock attack?”
“Pika?” asked the creature, unaware or unwilling to follow its trainer’s orders.
“See that Pidgey?” asked Ash, pointing, “I want you to attack it.”
“Pika,” it sighed.
“As your trainer, I tell you what to do."
“Pika.”
“Don’t’ you respect me as your trainer?”
“Pika.”
“Don’t you respect me as a being of superior intelligence to you?”
“Pika.”
“Look, we’re going to have to work together if we’re going to go anywhere.”
“Pika.”
Ash looked up to see the Pidgey flying away.
“Look-it got away!All because of you!"
Ash turned back around to see his backpack moving on the green grass, as if life was breathed into it. He ran up to it, and a small purple rat scurried away.
“Get out of there!” he yelled.
He pulled out the Pokedex, typed in the word ‘Rattata’, and pressed the ‘enter’ button.
“Rattata is a very common normal-type Pokémon that bites when it is attacked. Small and quick, it is able to adapt to many environments because it will eat almost anything edible.”
Ash looked up from the screen to see the Rattata rifling through his backpack again. It retreated, and the angered trainer grabbed a rock from the ground and threw it in the general direction of the Rattata. He did not hit the pesky rodent, who disappeared into the undergrowth of a small copse of trees on the side of the road. Ash trudged on, with even his own Pikachu’s unwillingness to battle two wild Pokémon.
It was the afternoon, and the sun was leaving its throne at the center of the open sky. The dirt path narrowed, and the tall grass leaned in, brushing their backs and hair. They had made good progress on the dirt road, and the increase in vegetation on the roadside told Ash that they were nearing Viridian City. He felt his backpack weigh him heavily down into the earth. He was going to have to lighten his load. The gentle sounds of a babbling stream reached their ears.
Ash saw a glint of metal ten yards into the distance. He ran up to it to find that the object in question was a red bicycle lying on its side on the grass. He looked around to see if the owner of the bike was anywhere to be found. There was not, and Ash decided to take advantage of the opportunity presented to him.
He got on the bike, placed Pikachu on his shoulder, and began peddling north, happy and carefree, whistling ‘Bicycle Built for Two.’ Suddenly, the bike did the exact thing that one does not expect a bicycle to do- the wheel exploded! Thrown by the blast, Ash blacked out.
He came to his senses a few minutes later. He opened his eyes slowly, and saw a redheaded girl about his age standing over him.
“What happened?” he asked slowly.
“Why don’t you explain that to me?” she asked accusingly. “Look at my brand new bike-it’s a wreck! What did you do to my bike?”
“It exploded,” Ash stated matter-of-factly.
“It exploded,” she repeated incredulously.
“It did,” he replied to the girl that was suddenly screaming banshee-like at him.
“Well, it makes no difference what happened to my bike. All I know is that you’re going to pay me back for the bike. It cost me a ton, and I just got it a week ago. You’re going to have to”-
“Pikachu!” Ash interrupted. “Where’s Pikachu? Is it okay?”
“You have a Pikachu?”
“Yes-it was with me. Oh, I hope that it’s okay,” he said, worried, as he got up and began the search for his Pokémon. After a few seconds, he saw a fat yellow shape lying in the green grass. He picked up the Pikachu and saw that it was unconscious.
“Pikachu! Pikachu! Are you okay? Oh, please, Pikachu, wake up!”
It was motionless, with only the gentle rhythm of its breathing telling Ash that it was still alive. His face was flushed and his mind was fogged with worry.
“Quick,” said the girl, “We have to get your Pikachu to a Pokémon Center. There’s one in Viridian City.”
Ash ran towards Viridian with the girl, his Pikachu in his arms. They saw the town in the distance, an arts-and-crafts/log cabin-style town on the outskirts of a dark green pine forest. They ran past the grass, trees, houses, and people to the Pokémon Center, a white, modern, red-roofed building that stood out from the houses and other buildings in the city, hurrying, running as fast as they could, the whole surrounding earth a blur, the whole world melting into anxiety. Ash and the girl ran inside the door.
Last edited:
I really really like it. There were a few spelling mistakes here and there, but nothing too super duper major. And I think Onyx should be Onix. That's how they spell it in the games. =/ Then again, I could be wrong.