The Viterals

Chapter 6: Rolling, Rolling, Rolling

To Zakana, Celadon City never seemed like a real place. When he saw pictures of the department store there, over 100 stories tall, the casino, with its magnificent neon lights and extravagant set-ups, he always thought it was made up-fabricated to increase tourism. A place like Celadon couldn't exist in Kanto, especially when stick-in-the-Mudkip places like Pallet existed nearby.

There are many cities just like Celadon, his mom would say. But it is the epicenter. It's very important to our economy.

When Zakana used to be interested in things, he would ask questions. But he knew those days were long gone.

Winter was passing and although the ride to Celadon on Yumin's giant bird was freezing, Celadon was cool-cool enough to need a sweatshirt, but not quite cold enough for a jacket.

Upon landing, Zakana felt the discomfort of his shoulder again. "Can you help me take this off, Yumin?"

Yumin glanced at Zakana and shrugged. "Hang on a sec." Yumin reached into his pack, pulled out a blue bottle and a beige pouch. "Braviary needs to eat and drink. She's exhausted from that flight. We'll have to walk to Celadon from here."

Braviary ducked into the handful of berries in Yumin's hand, plucked at them with precision. Yumin held the bottle up and Braviary held its beak next to it, waited for the gush of water.

"It's been a long time since she's made a journey this far," Yumin said.

Zakana struggled with his jacket, tried to take it off in spite of his sling. "How long have you had that thing?"

"Braviary is not a thing. I've had her since she was just a little Rufflet." Yumin patted Braviary on the top of the head, grinned. "I've had her about six years. She's one of my best."

"How many Pokémon do you have?"

"Close to 100," Yumin held out his hands, began to count in a way Zakana didn't' understand. "Let's see, with that last one, I'm at 97."

"97 . . . Pokémon?" Zakana stopped shimmying out of his jacket, stared at his cousin. "How is that possible?"

Yumin laughed. "There are people with plenty more than that, Zakana. 97 isn't really that great of a feat." Yumin finished blasting water down his Braviary's throat. He returned the bottle to his pack, withdrew Braviary's Pokeball from his belt, said, "return!"

The eagle Pokémon disappeared in a red-white light, returned to the ball in Yumin's hand.

From where Zakana stood, Celadon was just as brilliant as the magazines and adverts portrayed. Mountains blasted into the orange-pink sky, purple and green formations behind a city of skyscrapers and shiny new buildings. It looked serene. Zakana had finally removed his jacket. He hung it over his good shoulder. Calmness overcame him as he and Yumin crossed a field where the snow and frost had nearly all melted.

"How many Pokémon are there?"

Yumin advanced across the field, called back, "The number is something close to 700. The count changes every so often . . . when they discover new ones or decide that two previously discovered Pokémon are actually the same species."

Zakana imagined a laboratory with Pokémon Professors in white lab coats, taking sample of Pokémon, examining the cells under microscopes and saying things like, 'we found another one!'

"700 Pokémon?" he asked.

Again, he didn't know how that was possible. He had seen less than 50 and knew less than 10 by name.