D E C A Y
March 20, 10:00AM [One Hour Later]
Never mind, he’s gay. His name’s Oliver.
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He is quite good-looking and sad, I admit. His pink scruffy hair? Eccentric, to say the least. Kinda ethereal paired with smoldering eggplant purple and midnight blue eyes. Unusual. He strolled into the Lab from the door with a startling calm composure of a stalking jungle cat, wearing a tan sleeveless hoodie, a bag slung over his chest with three red Pokéballs pinned to the strap.
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His lips were locked tight. He examined the fossils silently. I called out several times, even hollering a desperate hello that echoed, before realizing he was deaf. He moved onto scrutinizing the next fossil. Aerodactyl. I tapped his shoulder.
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He raised a particular finger and said, “I heard you. Just a minute.”
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What offense! He was ignoring me after all. While I kept an eye on the batch of eggs, my teeth gritted at this yet another rude and arrogant newcomer.
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My anger subsided when he looked at me. His unblinking gaze locked with mine, and somehow I shivered at a coldness that wasn't there before. He introduced himself as Oliver, just Oliver.
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I was civil enough to send a quick nod his way and explained that I was not Prof. Palm, but her daughter Amanda. I made sure to grin.
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“Where is Prof. Palm?” He said this quickly, his strange eyes darting next to the Kabuto Fossil and seemed to evaluate it harshly.
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I cleared my throat. “She passed away.”
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That didn't faze Oliver saying without pause, “Sorry to hear that. I looked forward to meeting her. I came a long way from Kalos, see. I came by the Alola ferry.”
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That explained why I never saw him before. When I realized one of his hands carried a PokéDex, my eyes widened with a thrill I had to temper. We never worked with PokéDexes. Mother and I did everything by longhand and word of mouth. Jangura was not a sophisticated Region.
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“I need a starter. Is there another Professor?” Oliver glanced around the disheveled paperwork and the rattling eggs, looking concerned. “Are there any starters?”
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I pointed a pen to the three Pokéballs on his strap and adjusted my half-moon glasses.
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“What’s wrong with your Pokémon? I can restore them to full health. Or are they empty?”
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“I never beat a Gym,” Oliver said with some trouble. He had no badge from where I saw, and no Trainer would lie about that. His twilight colored eyes lowered. His pride was clearly wounded. “Can’t risk having them grow stronger than I can handle. Not again. I had a Rowlet and a Froakie. They became unruly. Had no choice but to release them into the wild… won't be seeing them again.”
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Like mother.
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“Sorry to hear that,” was my turn.
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I strode to the cabinet and opened big doors. There were two red Pokéballs on a shelf. I brought them to the table near Oliver and set them down.
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“Technically, I'm not supposed to do this. I don't do this for anyone but ... for you, I'll make an exception. Other Trainers get their starters from the Oak Institute in the north. The Prince was the last visitor. He pled a strong case, and I liked him. He took the Ram Pokémon. The Fire/Steel starter. Anyway, that won't have been your choice. Bigburn grows too quickly. You'll want the slowest growing ones, correct?”
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“Yes,” he confirmed.
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“On your left is Flippow. The Water/Fighting starter, the second slowest in terms of growth. Bottlenose Dolphin Pokémon.”
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I paused. He waited, without stirred interest. Oliver was determined, as expected.
I moved on.
“On your right is Tatiki. The Grass/Electric starter, a Tiger Pokémon. Despite its lightning speed in battle, it is actually the slowest growing of the three. Choose wisely, Trainer. Your choice affects the Way.”
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I quoted mother in this manner, but my voice was nowhere near eloquent. Shortly he picked up Tatiki. I asked if he'd like to nickname it. He said nothing more, turned, and headed out the door.
The nerve! How aggravating and how ungrateful. He’s lucky he's handsome. Oliver may be done with me, but I wasn't done with him or his magnificent PokéDex. If I was a nuisance, so be it.
My curiosity got the best of me after all so I swiped Flippow, my journal, and my pen before following the mysterious man outside.
Foam Town. A berth of frothy lull.
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The sky was unclouded, much too bright and glaring to look at for long. You can practically see zen in the slow rain dance of white and pink petals. They landed in silence and washed out with whispering roars to the sea. From the rundown Lab, there is a long stretch of white-sanded beach sweeping and flooding with foam, several raised bungalows with no other human in sight today, and a shoddy dock swaying.
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The ferry had gone. Oliver wasn't going that way. He and I took the narrow sandy trail that led deeper into the Umber Jungle, the only path left to take. I knew this narrow road like the back of my hand. But Oliver was cautious. I didn't blame him.
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Umber Jungle was intimidating at first look. Prickly dry grass stood taller than most people, dense and thorny. It was difficult and painful if one were to swashbuckle through but Oliver was light on foot, in dirty running shoes, extra wary of the sharp rustles and cries that rang out from all directions.
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We waded through a wide and shallow river. The water was cold but only submerged our ankles. Oliver kept both violet eyes open and vigilant for any zipping Fish Pokémon. I stifled a giggle.
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That was when he peered at me and said, “I’m only interested in men.”
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“Idiot,” I helplessly called him. Our faces both reddened. “I’m only interested in your PokéDex. Your awkwardness is so unnecessary!”
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“Sorted then,” Oliver said, sounding relieved.
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Rolling eyes, I returned to writing my journal. He took time down the trail, perhaps ten minutes, so I made good use of this time spent. It was nothing like Kalos and Alola to Oliver, of that I was sure. Jangura is wilder, more savage.
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He stops. Frozen in his tracks. A thick black and gold Bug Pokémon flutters out of the gnarled prairie grass. Aha. A wild Pokémon comes at last. Moment of truth. I get to see him at work. I'm jotting it all down...
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The PokéDex activates. It relays information I already know, but he hangs on every word.
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“Scarstar. Dung Beetle Pokémon. Types: Bug and Dark. When Scarstars aren't feeding on wild dung, they prey on ghosts that still wander lost.”
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The Scarstar is quite common in the area, but even still, its black and gold engraved shell is a beauty to behold. Its hum of sk-st is distinctly clear, its wings a hypnotic blur. Its hooked pincers look dangerous, like it can leave a wicked bite. Oliver grabs and tosses a Pokéball spinning landing into the river. It erupts synthetic white light. We hear a gentle splash.
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A tiger cub, the same tan color as his hoodie and the tall dry grass that surrounded the wide river, is left standing on all fours in the fizzy water. Its predatory eyes stare down the hovering scarab. Golden sparks crackle from its whiskers, leaping thin arcs in and out its spunky striped fur.
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The shock spreads to Oliver, making him to rub his ankles, but not me. I'm too far away for the electrical current to reach.
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It purrs softly, “Tat… Tatiki.”
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Oliver hasn't said a word while retrieving the ball that floated and bobbed back. The Scarstar lingers, staring back at the Tatiki. Both know better than to take off their eyes. It would provoke the other to lunge and attack. Oliver remains quiet.
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He is an unusual Trainer.
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I should stop writing here… I get the unexplainable feeling that I must not miss a single moment.
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Xoxo. Amanda Palm.
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