Roadtrip

Brother, it is wonderful to be alive.

Warmth trickled from the air, as if chasing the fading sun over the distant horizon. The leaves of a dead plant rustled with the passing of the evening breeze. The wind was slow, yet an orange pot-plant shook and nearly toppled. The dead plant slowly rose and a Phantump popped out, its ghostly body lifting from the warm soil.

Phantump yawned long and loud, smacking its lips and surveying the city below. From the balcony of the high apartment building the Pokémon below looked like Joltiks. The city skyline was silhouetted against the warm oranges of the setting sun. The din of traffic rose on the wind and Phantump nodded appreciatively before floating lazily into the apartment.

Phantump drifted past the couch, ignoring the Sableye watching television, and began poking its head into the fridge. “Where’s my sushi?”

“Can’t hear,” hollered Sableye.

Frowning, Phantump drifted upwards, unsurprised to find Sableye grinning broadly over the edge of the counter. “Where’s my leftover sushi?”

Sableye flipped onto the counter and leapt onto the fridge. Hanging off one door, it yanked the other open and started rifling through the fridge. “Did Flip take it?”

Phantump sighed and looked pointedly at Sableye.

“Hey,” snapped Sableye, “Vine, it wasn’t me.”

Waving it off, Vine dove into the fridge, pulled free a jar of Aguav Berry jam, and began smearing it across a croissant. “This’ll do.”

Sableye shrugged, dropped from the fridge, and scurried back to the couch. “You working tonight?”

Vine chewed his croissant slowly, shaking his head. “I quit,” he grunted through a mouthful.

Sableye’s brows shot upwards and his grin slipped into a toothy frown. “Why?”

When Vine only gestured vaguely, Sableye shrugged. “Ah well, take it from me, the great Nick! That place was only holding you back.”

Vine nodded but didn’t reply. Nick went to say more when several dull thuds came from the door. Grunting, Nick hurried over and whipped the door open. A Wooper stood with a distant smile on his face.

“Flip, what’cha doing?” Nick scratched at his chin with a long shadowy finger.

Flip waddled in, nudged the door closed and stared into Nick’s jewelled eyes. “They fixed the door today.”

“Yeah,” Nick nodded, hopping from foot to foot. “What, you don’t like the colour?”

Flip blinked slowly, then waved at the door with one foot. “You see a problem here?”

Nick’s eyes glinted as he searched the door, but nothing seemed unusual. Raising his hands innocently, Nick shook his head.

“He doesn’t have any hands,” Vine called from the kitchen.

Nick searched the door again, noticing the shiny round knobs. “Ah. That’s rough, buddy.”

Flip sighed and shuffled past. Leaping onto the couch, he squirmed, stretching restlessly. “You got one of the few doors I cannot open. You’re paying for them to replace it again.”

Nick came flying into the living room as he leapt from the entryway, flipping past Vine’s head.

“Stop, I coulda dropped my croissant!”

Nick settled on the armrest, ignoring Vine’s distress. “Come on, you know I don’t have any money.”

“Then get a job,” Flip replied distantly.

“Ain’t gonna happen, cap’n. You guys have jobs and you’re miserable.”

“Had,” corrected Vine.

Flip turned slowly, his eyes locking onto Nick’s. Flip’s ever-present smile was unnerving and the Wooper knew it. “I’m happy. I’m very happy.”

Throwing his hands up, Nick tumbled backwards off the armrest and settled on the floor. “You’re not funny, stop telling jokes.”

Vine floated between the two, obscuring Nick’s view and blocking Flip’s scathing retort. “What do you wanna do with your life?”

Nick’s eyes flickered as his brows furrowed. “No,” he poked Vine with a ghostly finger. “What do you wanna do with your life?”

Vine punched the air. “Find good soil!”

“Go, live your dream!” Scowling, Nick rolled backwards onto his feet and skulked away. “Send a postcard for all I care.”

Vine nibbled on his croissant, watching Sableye’s retreating form. When his food was gone, Vine turned and lowered himself into the couch until only his head rested atop the cushion. Flip lay outstretched, his eyes closed.

After a long silence, Vine said, “Flip, we’re dying here.”

“You’re a ghost type.”

“You know what I mean.”

Sighing, Flip rolled onto his side, opened one lazy eye and stared out the window. “What do you propose we do?”

“There’s a Pokemon named Xatu. He lives at the Hill of the Ancients, by Pokemon Square.”

“The town on the coastline?”

Vine nodded. “Supposedly, Xatu tells the future and guides people to where they should go. They say he even helped the rescue team that stopped the meteor all those years ago.”

Flip’s gaze was distant, his mind seemingly far away.

“Flip,” said Vine, his voice heavy. “I’m going. You and Nick are welcome to join me. It’s been awhile since any of us were alone, why split up now?”

When Flip didn’t respond, Vine nodded to himself and slowly began to drift away. Though after a moment, an exaggerated sigh came from the couch.

“Alright,” said Flip. “I’ll pack my things.”

A large grin split Vine’s face. Floating in circles he waved his tiny arms and cheered, “Flip, we are going on a roadtrip!”