Chapter 8: Sharing the Scraps

Chapter 8: Sharing the Scraps

Joey was starting to appreciate living in Meowth’s condo. Sure, the pure glass wall let in an annoying amount of sunlight in the evenings, and Joey couldn’t shake the fear that the whole place would slide down the cliff no matter how many times Meowth tried to assure him. But it was all worth it to see the sunrise in the early hours of the morning.

He’d hardly gotten any sleep last night, despite how badly he needed some. The crocodile’s head spun with thoughts about his future job, his new sort-of partnership with Meowth, and his estranged relationship with Mathew. To quell them, he had settled down on the living room couch and cracked open the reptile’s scrapbook. Joey had been keeping it safe these past few days, combing through it as if new pictures would magically appear to him. He didn’t really feel like he was making any more progress with it, but—

“Good morning, Joey.”

“Oh!” Joey exclaimed before reaching for his maw reflexively. “Hi Meowth,” he greeted in a half-whisper.

Meowth had just slipped out of his room to the side. Immediately, he made his way for the kitchen. “You’re up earlier than usual,” he remarked in a similar whispery tone as he rummaged his way through a cabinet.

“I reckon I could say the same for you. Did you have a bad sleep?”

“Not really. This is around the time I usually get up.” He pried out a store-bought loaf of bread. “You shouldn’t be like me. At your age, you need lots of sleep.”

“Oh.” Joey appreciated the advice, but he didn’t feel like heeding it, especially when Jermy was going to wake them up in a short while anyway. He just stayed quiet as Meowth slid two slices into his toaster.

“What are you reading?” he asked.

“It’s…” Joey stopped to think first. On one hand, this scrapbook was a sentimental gift from Mathew, and he probably wouldn’t shrug off him sharing it with Meowth. On the other hand, even after going over it, Joey still didn’t really know what all this meant for himself. Maybe a second pair of eyes could help him make sense of it? “It’s a scrapbook Mathew gave me. He said it’d help answer my questions about my past, but…to be real honest, I don’t feel like it answers anything. Maybe you’d see something I don’t?”

Meowth paused at that question. “Are you sure I should read that? I admit I was thinking about it, since it’d help me learn what I missed in that botched session, but…” He was quieted by Joey’s nod. “Alright.” Meowth padded over to the couch. Joey welcomed him by making some room and flipped to the beginning. As he sat down, his eyes locked on to the first page. “…What is that?”

“Hah?” Joey looked down and quickly understood what he was asking about. Right in the center was a photo of Mathew standing happily next to a few other humans. “Oh! This is what Mathew and his folks looked like back on Earth! I dunno why this ain’t the front cover. Here.” He handed the book to Meowth.

The cat squinted at the photo. “These are humans? I expected them to look…stronger.”

Joey stifled a giggle. “If they’re anything like what I seem to know, they ain’t.” He pointed to a bearded man in the photo. “I’m pretty sure that’s Mathew.”

“I see…” Meowth tapped Mathew’s face. “What’s that black patch under his mouth?”

“Oh, that’s a beard,” he explained. “Sometimes hair grows around there instead of on top of the noggin. They’re good for scratching when you wanna feel smart.”

“Huh.” Meowth turned the page. He was met with images dated several years back, depicting people in suits and dresses in front of a large pastel-colored cake, topped with strange figurines of laptops and electric guitars. Mathew was there, arm wrapped around a blonde-haired woman. “What’s going on here?”

The totodile gawked at him. “Do y’all not know about weddings?!”

“Not really.” Meowth sprung off the couch — the toaster had finished.

“It’s this big event that happens when two folks have a marriage! Which…is when they give each other pricey rings and say they’re gonna live their whole lives together.” If Meowth didn’t know what a wedding is, Joey figured he might not know what marriage is, either.

He glanced towards him as he set the pair on a plate and slotted in two more slices. “Together like roommates?”

“Together like a couple.”

“Ah,” Meowth said. “Looks pretty garish. And a waste, if that relationship doesn’t work out. Those medallions Politoed and Breloom wear are probably much cheaper.” He shook his head as he returned to the couch. “But that’s beside the point. I see that Mathew was romantically involved.”

“I’d reckon so.” Joey reached over and began turning the pages for him. There were countless photos of gatherings of various kinds — in a city, in a town, inside of unfamiliar homes. Mathew was a persistent face throughout them all, and at that, a rather happy one, especially when paired next to a young boy who he bore some resemblance to.

Meowth was clutching the scrapbook as if a whole new dimension had opened up to him. He took initiative back from Joey and started flipping pages himself. “I never would’ve guessed that Mathew had a family like this…and one that knows how to take some great shots.”

Not sure how to take that last comment, Joey just nodded in agreement. “Yeah. And that’s got me wondering…”

“Hmm.” Meowth hardly paid him any mind, eyes sucked towards the pages until he’d made it to the back cover. Then, he handed it back to Joey, open to somewhere in the second half. “Have you noticed how the photos change at this point, Joey?”

“Yeah.” Joey didn’t need it explained to him. He already noticed how there were fewer and fewer photos of the world outside their cozy home, and of the rest of the family. The woman at Mathew’s wedding wasn’t there, either. She was seemingly replaced by one with scruffy red hair that wore ripped clothes and jeans, and carried a bunny plush with her no matter the occasion. “They’re real different.”

“It’s interesting how much his family seems to change — and the fact that none of them are here with him. I suspect there might be a reason for it.” His tone started to flood with curiosity. “Maybe there was a separation. Does that happen on Earth?”

“Yeah, it’s called a divorce, but—”

“Okay, a divorce could have happened. Though I don’t see how that would necessarily leave Mathew entirely alone. A death? Multiple deaths? Or it could be—”

Pop, went the toaster once more. Meowth continued mumbling to himself as moved to take out the second set of toast and start a third. Joey paid him little mind.

The crocodile found himself returning to the few photos featuring him, having already committed their pages to memory. There was the halloween party with his parents, of course, but in his own time, he’d found a few more. Most of them were unremarkable…except the very last one.

Him and another boy — a boy who appeared in this scrapbook almost as much as Mathew did — were sitting together, side-by-side. An unopened gift bag was on the table next to the other boy. This one photo, of all photos, was the only time he had found himself wearing his cowboy hat. Joey was so used to wearing it now that it was surreal to see it as nothing more than a footnote in the story of this scrapbook.

But there was something more pressing here. Based on the gift, he reckoned this was some kind of birthday or holiday party. So why…were they crying?

They were smiling for the camera, but they couldn’t hide the truth from him. He could see the glint of water in their eyes, the dampness of their cheeks, the little falter in the boys’ smiles. Something was happening here, and Joey, despite having once lived this moment, wasn’t privy to it.

“…your opinion on all this, Joey? Do you have an idea of what could’ve happened?”

His concentration was broken by Meowth’s reintroduction to the couch. “Oh. Well, to be real honest, Meowth, that ain’t what I’m thinking about right now.” He turned the photo towards him. “I just wanna know how I fit into all this. Why Mathew’s so afraid to tell me.”

“Oh.” Meowth guiltily shrunk into the couch, placing one paw on the armrest and the other on his face. “I forgot we weren’t looking at the same things. Sorry.”

“It ain’t your fault. This is nobody’s problem but mine.” He removed his cowboy hat and turned it over, holding it next to the book. “Mathew’s kid — ‘MW’ — I think we used to be friends. And if we were writing our names together into my hat, we had to have been closer than a caterpillar and a cocoon. What did he want me to not forget? I can’t think of any ideas, besides…”

Meowth must have caught his hesitance, as he was swift to pounce on it. “Besides what?”

“Whatever thing that happened to Mathew to make him so on-edge all the time… Do you think I was the one who did it?” Joey looked to Meowth genuinely — he really didn’t want that to be true, but what other explanation was there?

The cat’s expression softened at his words. “Sometimes, the way others act doesn’t always make sense. Mathew’s behavior towards you might mean you did something wrong — or it might not. The only way we can really know is to piece it together ourselves.”

Joey could only sigh, hanging his head. He appreciated the reassurance, at least. “I reckon so…”

“Waaaaaaaaaugh! Turn it off! Turn it oooooooooff!”

Just as soon as it settled, Joey’s head snapped upward in alarm. A chorus of discordant beeps and boops with no rhyme or reason blared through the house, accompanying Mathew’s anguished yells.

“What the heck is going on up there?” Meowth said, squinting.

“No clue.”

Before either had the time to act, the ‘music’ cut out, leaving only the muffled squabbling of Mathew and Jermy upstairs. Things slowly settled, and then stomping footsteps filled the house — heading straight for the stairs.

Panic shot through Joey. Mathew was about to walk in on him showing off the reptile’s own scrapbook to Meowth! He’d planned to put it back in his room before he woke up, but he must have lost track of time. Giving Mathew another reason to blow a gasket would be worse than a flame sprayed with gasoline! Hastily, he slid the book under the couch. It was dusty under there, but it’s the best he could think of.

“Ugh, good morning, Joey,” Mathew groaned as he and Jermy stumbled into the living room. His eyes were grimy and half-open — Joey hoped those eyes wouldn’t see him hastily slinking back into position. They certainly didn’t see Meowth, considering he didn’t bother to greet him. “Weird to see you up earlier than the both of us.”

“Yeah, I couldn’t get a wink of sleep. I had more things on my mind than sheep I could count.” Joey hoped that was vague enough. “What was all that ruckus about?”

“Jermy wanted to wake everyone up in one fell swoop,” ORB explained as he rolled off of the bottom stair, “so he ordered me to bring out the big guns.”

Mathew turned to ORB in annoyance. “Blasting the Crazybus theme into people’s ears should be legally considered torture…”

“Lack of attendance is legally considered grounds for firing.”

He sighed. “Good point.”

“I fixed you all breakfast before you go,” Meowth butted in. With the third set of toast ready, he laid out the plates on a counter, ripe for the taking. “Here.”

“Well, hey! Who doesn’t love a timely…4:30 AM…breakfast?” Jermy’s exclamation fizzled out.

Mathew crossed the living room to study the toast, keeping his eyes off of Meowth the whole way. “You fixed toast and nothing else?”

“Yes. Did you want the leftovers from Silvalla’s?” Meowth asked. “I can heat them up.”

At the mention of Silvalla’s, Mathew stepped back. “Toast is just such a bland meal,” he said firmly. “You don’t even have like, butter or cinnamon or powder or anything?”

Meowth shrugged. “Sorry. I don’t have ingredients like that because I don’t always fix toast in the mornings. Usually, I just want bread.” He grabbed a single slice of bread and bit down on it.

“If you don’t like the toast, I reckon you could still fix a sandwich,” Joey suggested, trying to direct Mathew’s attention away from bashing toast. “I saw some peanut butter in one of the cabinets.”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Mathew turned away from the plates, settling down on the couch with no food in hand. He sat where Meowth had been previously — right around where Joey had laid the scrapbook down.

“I’ve had kookier breakfasts before. Plain old toast is nothing to me!” Jermy took two of the plates, handed one to Joey, and then promptly crammed an entire slice into his mouth.

“Woah!” Joey lurched back, both impressed and mildly disgusted.

“Huh?” It took Jermy a moment to realize what had caught his attention. “Oh! Yeah, when you’re as dexterous as me, you can do some surprising things. Like speed-eat to save time!”

“It’s impressive, considering Jermy’s dexterity is below-average,” ORB quipped.

“Hey!”

Joey nodded along with them. From time to time, Jermy would sneak this kind of advice to them — subtle teaching moments about what it’s like to be a pokémon rather than a human. The crocodile found it a little silly. Everyone here recognizes that Meowth already knows, right?

Tap, tap, tap…

The gentle knocks on Meowth’s door may have been softer than a squished pillow, but with no other morning bustle outside, there was nothing to drown it out. Meowth wasted no time in making for the door, half-eaten bread in his paw as he pulled it open. “Oh. Demurke.”

“H-hi, Meowth! I hope you’re…doing okay.” The crow was just outside, peering over Meowth’s shoulder to get a look into the living room. It was tough for Joey to make her out without standing up and looking harder — her dark feathers blended into the twilight outside. “Is everyone a-awake in there?”

Jermy’s ears perked in surprise at the sound of her voice. He briskly marched over to her, forcing Meowth to press himself against the wall so he could pass. “Yeah, we’re rearing to go! How about you? I thought you were still setting up.”

“I was…” she said. “David sent me. I-it’s taking longer to get ready than h-he thought it would. He’s moving th-the start time…back an hour.”

“Back an…” Jermy groaned. “Of course. When any one of us is late, it’s a whole mess, but when he’s late—” The rodent cut himself off at the sight of Demurke’s expression. “Well, I guess that means we don’t have to rush?”

“Yeah, e-exactly!” Even from this distance, Joey could see her red eyes shifting between Jermy and Meowth, a wing raising to her chest. “Then, I guess I should…” She firmly dropped her wing back down. “Would it be okay i-if I stayed here instead of going back?”

“Are you sure?” the cat pushed off the wall, getting in front of Jermy. “It sounded like you were busy.”

“Yeah, but i-it’s been so long since we…hung out together! Outside o-of work, I mean.”

Meowth slouched a little, his gaze narrowing. “I guess it’s fine.” Despite his demeanor, he backed away from the doorframe, letting her through. “If you need to kill some time, there’s probably something good on TV.” He eyed Mathew curiously. “Any recommendations?”

“As if I’d know any TV shows here…” Still, Mathew stretched and got to his feet, moving towards the box across from the couch.

However, Demurke beat him to it. “N-no, I’ll get it…!” she insisted as her wings brushed the bottom of the box.

“—Alliance finally WRAPPED UP its debate with the Great Church of Scolton LAST NIGHT!” The line-laden screen flicked to life, showing a big-mouthed purple pokémon standing before a towering building surrounded by arid, cracked dirt. “It’s official: Legendary War XXII is now OFFICIALLY the GREAT LEGENDARY WAR! The product of SIX days’ worth—”

The screen flicked off, filling the room with an empty buzz. “And there’s…the channel-changing button,” Demurke told Mathew.

Color came back to the TV, but what was there now was completely different. An animated fox with a pure black pelt bounded through off-color hills, chasing after a violet star spinning through a sky full of shapes. The camera stilled on a shot of the fox’s face, contrasted by white, angular eyes.

Demurke’s red eyes lit up as brightly as theirs. “Oh! Is this…Every Star a Catcher?”

“Is that what this show’s called?” Joey asked. He felt like he’d never seen anything quite like it before.

“Yeah.” Meowth filtered back into the living room. “It’s about that fox, Catcher, keeping stars who accidentally fall out of the star world from hitting the ground, then putting them back in the sky. It’s pretty good.”

“Y-you’re a fan?!” She looked to him in surprise. “I a-always wanted to give it a try, b-but…I’ve never gotten the chance.”

He shrugged. “It was good background noise while I worked on assignments.”

Mathew plopped back down. “I mean, we’re not going anywhere for an hour, right? If you wanna watch this umbreon, Demurke…”

She was so eager that she dropped onto the floor, right in front of the TV. Her hat blocked Joey’s view of the TV, but he wasn’t gonna complain.

“You know Catcher isn’t a pokémon, right?” Meowth passed a look at the couch before sitting down on the floor with her. The only open space on the couch was between him and Mathew.

The reptile squinted at Meowth. “You’re telling me that’s not just a stylized umbreon?”

“I bet your britches umbreon was the inspiration, but that doesn’t make them the same!” Jermy took the floor next to the couch, passing both of them a little glare as he sat down. Joey got the sense he was trying to tell them something, but he couldn’t figure out what, so the crocodile elected not to speak.

Besides, the show was starting. He didn’t want to talk over that.

“Well, that kind of sucked.”

Mathew’s remark punctuated the rolling of credits as a new show overtook Every Star a Catcher. Jermy had fallen asleep five minutes in, leaving just the recruits, Meowth, Demurke, and ORB as the ones who made it to the end.

“I wouldn’t say it was bad,” Joey said, “but I ain’t really sure what it was trying to say.”

“Yeah, exactly!” Mathew said. “I mean, nothing wrong with a show not being serial, but if you’re gonna be episodic, you should at least do it right.”

Demurke looked away from them both. Joey swore he heard her mumble, “I-I thought it was nice…”

“What was so wrong about it?” Meowth asked, whiskers grazing the static as he flicked the TV off with his claw.

Mathew began to count off on a hand. “It didn’t have interesting characters…” He raised a thumb. “It wasn’t funny…” He raised the rest of his hand. He blinked, and then, with no third digit to raise, lowered it back down. “The visuals were inconsistent…”

“You sound like you’re describing an art gallery,” Meowth said. “This is an animation. Allowing pokémon to express themselves through unique visuals is the point of the show.”

Huh, Joey hadn’t really thought about that. “Well, if that’s what it’s all about—”

“That doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Mathew interrupted. “I happen to prefer shows that make me think, that’s all.”

Meowth rolled his eyes. “I really hope you don’t always have to scratch your beard and say ‘hmm, this episode really stimulated my understanding of philosophical concepts’ for entertainment. That sounds very draining.”

“And I hope that you don’t always have to be such a — wait,” Mathew’s expression went from irritated to icy. “I didn’t tell you I had a beard.”

The room went dead silent. Demurke’s head suddenly snapped back, beaded eyes aimed at the panicked Meowth. Meanwhile, Mathew’s gaze shifted from the cat to him. Joey could feel his grasp on the couch cushion tighten as his leg leaned back…and made contact with the scrapbook.

Busted.

“Joey, what the hell?!” Mathew swiftly reached down, grabbed the scrapbook, he pried it open. “God, you got little gray furs on the pages and everything.” Under his mask, Joey could see grit teeth as he plucked a fur and tossed it on the floor.

Joey reached towards him. “Mathew, I can explain—”

“Giving you my scrapbook wasn’t an excuse for you to go showing it off!” he snapped, brushing Joey’s hand away and keeping him on his side of the couch. “Especially not to him. Is this what you talked about in that gondola?”

Joey clutched the brim of his hat. “Well what’s the big deal, anyway? Our humanity’s a worse-kept secret than buried treasure in Times Square! Everyone here already knows what he figured out!”

Mathew hissed, “But Meowth didn’t know that she knows.” He pointed with the claw of his thumb to the corner of the room, in the space between the TV and the glass wall. Demurke had huddled there, red-coated wings covering her beak. The brim of her hat masked over her eyes.

…Oh.

Rubbing salt into the wound, ORB, on the floor by Jermy’s body, punctuated the moment with a blunt, “You shouldn’t have done that.”

Meowth shifted awkwardly. “If it’s any compensation—”

“You stay out of this.” Mathew’s near-yell was enough to startle the pikachu awake, punctuated by a yelp and a few kicks. Without skipping a beat, he was back on Joey, hugging the scrapbook to his chest. “This is exactly what I was warning you about! You know why he’s being so buddy-buddy with you now, Joey? Because you’re his free ticket into worming his way back into my life!”

Frustration boiled in Joey’s throat. “That ain’t true! I’m the one who got him to team up with me, and I got him to read! All Meowth wants is to patch things up with y’all. If you’re gonna get hoppin’ mad, at least get hoppin’ mad at the right folk!”

Right after the words fell from Joey’s maw, a cacophony of emotions rippled through Mathew. First, he looked towards Joey with an intense rage. That rage faded into a strained expression, then contemplation. There was a split-second where the life fled from his eyes, and when they returned, they showed…despair.

“Shut up.” Mathew rose from the couch. Tears streamed down over his mask as his glare fixated on Meowth. “I know what you want. What you all want.”

Meowth’s lips trembled, but nothing came from his mouth.

Joey, meanwhile, recoiled at the remark. “Hah? What are you saying?”

Mathew didn’t even acknowledge him. “We have work in half an hour, right?” He dropped the scrapbook onto the table. “Leave this in your room or whatever. I’m going to get ready.” And just like that, he climbed the stairs and left them there.

Joey and Meowth passed shameful looks. In the corner, Demurke sat there, completely curled into herself. The confused Jermy pulled off his goggles and bandana, opting to fiddle with them instead of address what he’d almost slept through.

The cracking dawn cast deep shadows into the condo. Sitting on that table, Joey swore the scrapbook’s was the deepest.