Chapter 18

Floaroma Town was barely an outskirt of a suburb, a small stopover village nestled in the woods at the bottom of Mount Coronet. In comparison, Celestic Town may well have been a bustling center of trade. But where Celestic was surrounded by perpetual mountain haze, looming pine trees, and a jagged, knife-like terrain that combined to cause Sam to fear for his life at the movement of his own shadow, Floaroma Town was much more sleepy and calm. The village was literally alive with colors; flowers bloomed from the east end to the western highway out towards Eterna City, and roads and walkways were shaped windingly around their beds so as to molest them as little as possible. Despite the frantic nature in which Sam had arrived at Floaroma Town just hours before, he felt a sense of relaxation as he made his way to the Val-U-Stay motel where he’d rented a room. The peacefulness of the quiet village and the hypnotic sway of the floral scenery reminded Sam of a movie he’d seen as a child, but these flowers–unlike the ones in the film–did not seem to have the nefarious side effect of putting travelers to sleep at a witch’s command. A witch would have been the least of Sam’s concerns at the moment, anyway.

There certainly was some effect from the flowers, though. Sam had been running all-but nonstop for two days as he tried to put as much distance between himself and Canalave City as possible. It was not until he’d reached Floaroma that the idea of catching his breath and figuring out his next move came to him. Maybe it was something about the easiness of the flowers that had calmed him down after all. The Val-U-Stay seemed to be the most anonymous place in town, so he settled on that despite the unimpressive boasting on its vacancy sign. “Beds. Cable TV. Private Rooms”. They weren’t the most fascinating amenities Sam could imagine, but it did certainly beat the alternative, which was apparently having a public room with no beds.

Sam found himself mesmerized in place and admiring the intertwining of a bush of red flowers with another bush of yellow flowers (Sam was humbled by being incapable of naming the plants, but he realized he never claimed to be a botanist) when the proprietor of the Val-U-Stay emerged from the front office to sweep the sidewalk. The sight of her brought him back to reality; he pulled the brim of the ballcap he had lifted from a gas station outside Jubilife City down to cover as much of his face as possible and nodded at her as he hurried away up the stairwell to the second floor.

Sam pushed open the door to room seventeen and was almost immediately tackled by Monferno, causing the bag of convenience store delicacies he had left the motel room for in the first place to scatter to the ground.

“Damn it! I had soup in there!” Sam cried in frustration as Monferno rubbed his face on Sam’s chest. “Why is he even out of his ball?”

“Well he’s hungry, too. And he doesn’t like being cooped up in his ball anymore than we like being cooped up in a motel room.”

Monferno bounced from Sam’s body and began sniffing around the fallen bag. Sam saw the monkey begin licking at it and knew right away that the lid must have come free from the soup. So much for dinner, he thought. “Barry, you and this ape couldn’t spell ’subtlety’ if I tattooed it on each of your foreheads. What if he made so much noise that someone–”

“Well of course we couldn’t.”

Sam froze and narrowed his eyes. He took a deep breath before deciding to address whatever Barry was talking about. “Couldn’t what?”

“Spell it. I mean, if you tattooed it on our heads. Because then it would be backwards.”

Sam felt his eyes begin to water. “I–what now?”

“If you tattooed it on our heads and we looked in the mirror to see how it was spelled, it’d be all backwards. Then there’s the fact that I’m pretty sure Monferno can’t spell words anyway–”

There might have been more, and knowing Barry, there probably was. But Sam’s brain had deactivated as part of some kind of self-defense mechanism. All he could hear was the steady, high-pitched grunt building in the back of his throat. Sure enough, Barry’s mouth was still moving. Sam shuddered and turned to the fire pokemon; it was still licking the inside of the plastic bag.

“Am I right?” Barry apparently concluded.

“I–yes. That is–yes. Right. Okay. Sure. Backwards.” Sam’s brain was not offering up more than one word at a time. Disagreeing with Barry never seemed to net much gain. 

Barry nodded, possibly proud of himself for yet another deep thought, and the two of them stood facing each other as the seconds dawdled past. Monferno was still crouched on the ground and pawing at the bag of lost soup, and he was not being neat about it with broth and noodles slopping up the floor. It occurred to Sam that Barry had no interest in cleaning up after his friend, so if it was going to get done, he’d have to be the one to do it. 

“I guess I’ll get a towel to clean that up,” Sam said, letting his eyes linger on Barry for a few moments as he started towards the bathroom. 

Barry was undeterred, and only pressed his palms downwards. “I’ll hold everything down here,” he answered as if the duty were vitally important.

Sam pulled a washrag off of the towel rack in the motel bathroom that was barely capable of holding a shower, a toilet, a sink, and a human being within its walls. They couldn’t stay in this motel for long, and he knew it. Sam was beginning to feel like he had nowhere left to turn. He could not possibly go back to the Phoenix Corporation, yet Professor Rowan was hardly any better of an option. And back home to Goldenrod City, empty-handed? That was simply out of the question. His brain pressed him, Where are you going, Sam?

His eyes caught the light coming through the window, and Sam could not help but wonder who would put a window in a motel bathroom? His gaze settled back on the swaying colors outside. A burst of violet settled in amongst a sea of muted yellow, and Sam could see the movement of insects busily floating from blossom to blossom to collect their dinners. Sam leaned his neck to look up to the sky; he wondered if the flowers’ colors were arranged in such a way that they made an image to passing aircraft. Something simple, but pleasant enough to charm anyone passing by and hopefully let them forget about the stresses of their life until they reached their destination.

“Hey, Sam?” Barry called from outside the bathroom. “Any idea why we would be on TV?”

Sam’s attention was wrenched from the peacefulness of the window, and he rushed to Barry’s side in front the tiny motel television set. Sure enough, there were two photos of them in the corner of a news report. The shot of Barry was a simple stock photo–probably a school picture with the way he was mugging in the image–and the one of Sam looked to be a still picture from a security camera in Canalave. Sam would be lying if he claimed he had not thought this might happen, but he was counting on Mr. Alonzo’s secretive nature and distrust of Sinnohans to keep it from coming to this.

“Turn it up,” he told Barry, though the words had to fight their way out of his mouth.

“No word today to follow up yesterday’s report of a violent kidnapping in Canalave City. Samuel Stark of Johto, pictured right, was abducted from the Phoenix Shipping Corporation Building in Canalave by accused eco-terrorist Barry West, pictured left. In the middle of the afternoon business day–”

“What the hell?” Sam squinted at the report as if he could see beyond it to something else.

“Eco-terrorist?” Barry mused, his breath chortling out through his nose.

“–witnesses have corroborated the story that Mr. West was trying to break into the building through the basement. When Mr. Stark allegedly caught him in the act, Mr. West took him hostage and fled the city, possibly aboard a ferry or cargo ship. If you see either of these men–”

“Who corroborated that? Who possibly–” Sam’s words died with the dawning of a realization. “What the hell kind of game is Alonzo playing here?”

“Eco terrorist! Ha!”

“According to Phoenix Corporation President, Henrique Alonzo, Barry West is dangerous, possibly disturbed, and prone to violent, destructive outbursts. He is responsible for millions of dollars of damaged property, and he allegedly made an attempt on the lives of several Phoenix employees off the coast of Snowpoint City.”

“Well, okay. Most of that one is true…”

“I’m gonna terrorize all the ecos!” 

“–still awaiting official word from Sinnoh’s Secretary of Pokemon Affairs, Professor Rowan. Professor Rowan is the legal guardian of Barry West, and previous attempts to contact him have been politely declined, though Professor Rowan did state the accusations against Mr. West are absurd, and he’d be calling a press conference tomorrow morning to directly address the concerns.”

Sam lowered his face down into his hands and rubbed his eyes until he saw sparks dancing in his eyelids. The news report had been, of course, untrue. Sam did not find Barry trying to break into the building; he found him there being held in the boiler room against his will. It had become apparent to Sam then that when Sam had left Barry in Snowpoint with Mr. Alonzo, the latter held onto Barry, labeling him as some kind of threat. It was another in a long line of mistakes Sam had made lately, but he immediately decided to make up for it by taking Barry as far from Henrique as possible. Since charging out of the Phoenix Corporation Building after rescuing Barry and gathering up their friends, Sam had been so frazzled he had not stopped to consider what would be best for Barry.

“We’ve got to get you back to Sandgem Town. Now.”

“Well, we could, but I can’t promise not to blow up a tree on the way. Because that’s what I do, you know?”

“That’s not even what it–no, come on. We’re not that far off. We can get you back together with Rowan by tonight if we push it. Then you can go out there with him tomorrow and say what’s really going on. With you, with me, with Alonzo. The whole truth.”

Barry scratched his cheek. “Yeah, that’d be pretty neat. You, me, and Rowan all at a podium together, being all like ‘Mr. Alonzo is a dick’! Let’s see what he has to say in response to that, right?”

“Right…,” Sam looked down at the carpet and saw the soup stain. The mess he still hadn’t cleaned up and now would never get to. “Look, I’m not staying if we go. I’ll get you to the lab, but that’s as far as I go. Alonzo might be crackerjacks, but Rowan… he’s not exactly on my Christmas card list, either.”

Barry shrugged, but offered nothing else. Sam felt compelled to go on. “Look, I screwed up, and I got you hurt. That was really pathetic of me; I know it. But those two? Man, it was bad enough when they were both moving me like a pawn on a checkerboard. Now they’re going to make their little to-do public? Keep me out of it.”

“Chessboard.”

“What?”

“You use a pawn on a chessboard, not a checkerboard.”

Sam’s instant rebuttal was that they were the same thing, but he kept it to himself. Had Barry heard anything else he said, or was Sam basically just talking to the cold stain on the seafoam green carpet?

“So where are you going? After dropping me off, that is.”

Sam looked over his right shoulder as the answer sprang to him. “Lake Valor. Verity is too close to Canalave, and Acuity is too risky if Henrique ends up back at his little resort. I’m going to find Lake Valor and see if any of the guardians returned there. They’ll be willing to help me; I saw that in them. It’s what I have to do.”

Barry nodded emphatically. He pulled one of his pokeballs from his pocket and recalled Monferno into it. “Lake Valor’s going to be a long trip. You better run back across the street before we leave and stock up on energy drinks. I get sleepy on busses and trains.”

“Yeah, but no. Did you miss the part where I’m taking you back to Sandgem so you can clear your name?”

“I did, but that was the boring part of the plan that I’m ignoring. So we’re going to Valor together instead. Besides, I’d be the worst kidnapper ever if I just let you wander off on your own. Mean, who does that?”

“Barry, this is serious.”

“I don’t do serious.”

“I saw you arguing with Mr. Alonzo over the proper care of legendary pokemon.”

Barry rolled his eyes as if the memory was damaging to his reputation. “Sometimes I do serious. Irregularly, at best.”

“And what if we get caught by someone while you’re with me?”

“Did you miss the part of the story where you’re my hapless victim? You can tell the police the truth if it came to that. Besides,” Barry slapped Sam’s shoulder, “do you really think the prof would let me rot in jail? That’s kind of the point of having powerful friends and family.”

Barry was a hard kid to read, but especially so at that moment; Sam had no idea why he was turning up a chance to clear his own name. There was always the possibility that the impulsive youth simply wanted to go where there might be action. But maybe there was more, Sam thought. Maybe Barry was in tune to how much Sam felt he still needed to make up to him. It had, after all, only been a few days since he’d physically assaulted Barry, humiliated him, stole his friends, and left him at the mercy of someone like Henrique Alonzo. One little rescue hardly made up for that.

Sam sighed, but did not say anything back. Barry nodded brightly in reply, and it appeared to be settled. The two gathered up what meager possessions they had with them at the motel. Sam might have missed the changes in clothes and belongings he had to leave with Carlos when he abruptly fled Canalave, but he had to admit that it made for abandoning a motel in a hurry much easier. Within minutes, wallets, pokeballs, and cell phones were gathered up, and the two were ready to leave. 

They pulled the door to room seventeen behind them just in time to see a police officer climbing the outer stairs of the motel right outside their room. He was bald, and his expansive forehead was wrinkled in a scowl. 

Sam froze, and his brain tried to process an ocean of possibilities. The motel manager must have recognized him and called the police in to investigate the room. Or someone at the convenience store saw him; maybe he was caught on the surveillance video there. Would he have to explain to the cop the situation and tell him the truth about Barry? There didn’t seem to be any way the officer would believe him. He’d probably just chalk it up to Stockholm Syndrome or something. 

The cop let out a fiery breath, and Sam immediately knew he wasn’t in a pleasant mood. Sam felt his hands ball up; would he have to use his friends to get past the guy? Maybe, but then what? He and Barry would be reduced to attacking an officer and then trying to run away on foot. How was it that between the two of them, they did not have a single pokemon that could fly them away? Sam’s hand began lagging towards his pocket…

“Hello there, gentlemen. I tell you, I’d kill to be your age again. Concrete steps are a bitch on an artificial knee.” The cop finally let out a smile as he strode, limping slightly, past them down the second-floor corridor. “Have a good day.”

Sam never turned to see the officer disappear behind a corner, but when he could no longer hear the off-tempo footsteps, he felt all the air rush out of his lungs, “Ffffuuuu–”

“I totally thought we were about to beat a cop’s butt. That was almost so awesome. So close.”

Sam regained himself by steadying on the railing. He looked out over a sea of lazy flowers lulling in the cool air. He wasn’t about to be tricked by them again.

“Let’s please just get out of here before my heart explodes, okay?”