FLOOD [Pokémon]

Chapter 8: Quid Pro Quo

DARWIN

Thursday, March 15, 2018

As expected, when 7:45 PM rolled around and it was time for the Pool Party to start, even though I was dressed in a tie-dyed pair of swim trunks and a green swim jacket, I did not join my roughhousing classmates in the Pokémon Center's giant indoor pool.

Unfortunately, I couldn't be happy about that, because where I did go was to a grimy administration office in the Pokémon Center's aquarium sector. My teachers accompanied me, and currently stood around me in a lopsided, displeased circle. The fact that they were all wearing conservative swimsuits made things comical and yet worse.

I had no trouble guessing what this was about.

"Darwin," Ms. Scales said grimly. "We need to talk about your Sharpedo."

"More specifically, her temperament," Mr. Kelley said. "The staff here at the Center have their hands full with containing her — she goes berserk every time the sedatives wear off, and they just wind up pumping her full of more. She's out of control."

I had to admire the way he glared at me while he said that, like I was somehow responsible for Sharpedo's inconvenient behavior; it made me feel like the class troublemaker in a student-teacher conference, about to be put through a round of scolding and belittlement. That's probably why I found myself apologizing: "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," Mrs. Underwood said. She was my Pre-Calculus teacher, one I didn't have much of a rapport with. But today, she was staring at me like she was seeing the real Darwin Blakesley for the first time; you'd think I was the only kid in RTHS history to ever try for something more ambitious than a Magikarp on a Water Safari trip. "It's not your fault," she continued. "You didn't know this would happen."

"I disagree," Mr. Kelley grunted. "He knew very well what would happen. Isn't there a reason we warn the students against catching older, evolved Pokémon? I understand that in catching this Sharpedo he was being compassionate, but this Pokémon..." He shook his head. "This Pokémon is too dangerous, and that's all there is to it."

I ducked my head in shame, my skin heating down to my neck. After our conversation at the convenience store, Mr. Kelley must have gone and spilled the beans on my true intentions behind catching the Sharpedo, which explained why my teachers were more than a little annoyed with me. But what could I say? He was right. Before we'd even signed the forms for this trip, we'd been told, over and over and over, to never attempt at catching evolved Pokémon because of their lack of malleability. The Sharpedo had obviously had a long, interesting, and possibly difficult life — certainly she ruled any space she occupied, and was used to living without restrictions or boundaries. To suddenly be confined within a Pokéball would be frightening, infuriating, and outrageous — a slight against her nature and a degradation of her standard of living; what happened in the tank today was her telling me, in no uncertain terms, how felt about this.

Younger, unevolved Pokémon, on the other hand, were more likely to be curious after being captured, rather than disagreeable — since they knew little to nothing about the world, they more readily adapted to sudden changes in setting and lifestyle, which was why Trina the Squirtle had jumped and smiled at Thomas, versus Skull Bashing his ribs in.

But still: Mr. Kelley could call me dumb for catching the Sharpedo all he wanted, but he hadn't been there, so there was no way he could know how frightened, confused, and conflicted I'd been. There was catching a Squirtle because you thought Squirtles were cool... And there was catching a Sharpedo because you wanted to help it, and because there was a good chance it would kill you otherwise. I thought about mentioning this, but I'd already told my story to my teachers twice — I doubted a third time would convince Mr. Kelley that I wasn't at fault.