From: Chuck Einhorn <unicorns@mmtcnet.com> Subject: Re: [PW!] A Gathering of Thoughts Date: Tuesday, October 19, 1999 8:17 PM Tree Spirit wrote: > > "Any chance I could join Anti-Team Rocket? Maybe go to the > recruiting center in Pewter?" Dernam asked. > Pausing slightly in his footsteps, Derrick turned around slowly. > "What do you mean?" > "I mean, I want to join ATR, if there is nothing wrong with it." > Dernam looked up. "Is there?" There is a silence and a droplet of water lands > on Luke's face. > "We should go seek shelter." Luke pointed to a pokemon center > not too far off. As they walked along the glum dirt trails and observed the > sunlight being blocked away by overturning darkness and dampness from the > missed waters of the unconfined atmosphere, they felt relieved. This was a > better sight than what the shadowed caves had to offer. The black nothingness > was finally over and it has opened up to the skies, whether or not they were > ready yet to become blue. > And yet still, there was an uneasiness lurking in the back of > their minds and hearts. Then, Derrick remembered the voices in Mount Moon. Were > they still following? Why? Who? How? These questions may never leave him if he > never knew the answer. the thought of hallucinations could have been they key, > but they couldn't have led him to the rockets on purpose. And who was that ATR > man? > "Sigh." Derrick needed a rest from thinking. He grasped the > slippery handle to the door and slowly opened it. > > Dernam, Luke, and Derrick looked about the place. It was awful > quiet and the rain hitting against the window sill gave a soothing melody as if > the cricket in times square had paid a visit. There was a sense of lonliness, > serenity, and safety throughout the dimlighted building. > "May I help you?" A weary Nurse Joy asked with her eyes half > open. The tune had gotten to her as well. > "We are just resting here," Luke explained. He looked back to > see Dernam and Derrick half asleep on empty sets of couches. > "Help yourself. . ." Joy yawned and placed her hands back on the > table, and then her head followed. Derrick got up and wandered into the > hallways of the pokecenter, looking for an unoccupied room where he could get a > bit of rest. > "Why do you want to join ATR?" Luke asked sleepily to Dernam. > "mfermmfermf...." Luke turned to Dernam who was already lying on > the couch with his face stuffed into a flattened pillow. he as well decided to > rest his feet and mind into the furniture. They gave way to the song of the > rain and feel asleep. > > "Sigh." Derrick wandered around the center once more and > stumbled into a darker room. Inside one person was lying in the bed asleep, > while the other was asleep on a chair to the left of her. Derrick squinted even > more with his baggy eyes and the facades appeared to be that of Rigel and Neo. > He pulled out the other chair to her right and sat comfortably. > Neo slowly opened his eyes and rubbed them. There was something > wrapped in newspaper like a gift resting on his sore lap. It appeared to > obviously be a gift for Rigel, whom was resting her tired, brittle body into > the cott which was so desired by any traveler, but deserved by her. He looked > up to Derrick and ever so slowly, his eyes widened. > "Der. . .rick?" He was obviously surprised, but his body was too > tired to lift him to his feet, let alone make any body movements. "Y .o .u . .w > .e .r .e ..d.e .a .d . .b .a .c .k. .t.h e . .n." > He dared not to explain things as they were. Not yet. Derrick > could see that Neo was just as tired as he and needed nothing new to think of. > Right away as well, Neo's eyes slammed shut like rusty shudders of an old > cottage. > > Derrick walked to the other end of the center, it was dimmer and > very much empty. He wanted to be alone for now, for a gathering of thoughts. As > he sat down on the lonely couch, Derrick could feel the air getting thinner, > the lights getting wearier, and the rain softer. The porch lights outside > offered a welcoming to the world of serene silence, all for him. As he looked > out the window, he observed the raindrops pettling the ground with their weak > fury, only to become at one with the cricket chirps, falling leaves, and gentle > winds of the autumn season. > It was as if the atmosphere had snatched away the utmost of > Derrick's worries and stretched it out until it tore itself into shreds of > dignity waiting to be taped back together with the consciousness. "If only. . . > ." And every once in a while, Derrick might be reminded that there was a great > many more things coming his way. > Sometimes a small mouse rushing by his feet might trigger the > effect. Eventually though, the mouse too, would stop in it's tracks to just sit > there and listen. It would halt the life of it's own to just hear and see the > beauty of the world. And so it did just that along with everyone else in the > center. Everyone else had fallen into a transe of everlasting feeling which > swept all the emptiness out of themselves. > Just to have someone sit next to you and describe the night > would never be enough. It would never be enough to feel how the rain felt. To > feel what the mouse feels when it takes a break from itself. To feel what the > cricket feels when it sings it's heavenly tune. To feel what the wind feels > when it glides itself across the ground just to get an idea of what absolute > serenity was like. > That night, the center was silent. It remained silent and the > beauty of the silence seemed to ring on forever. This is what dreams were, are, > and will be made of. This is how the loner feels when he is spoken to with > calmness and true being. This is how the sparrow feels when all stop in awe to > listen to his private concert. This is what life was worth living for. Dernam slept soundly. His dreams were the same as they always were, which was the weirdest part. A collage of sights, sounds, smells, memories..........very surreal, usually. He was walking through a tunnel, the walls swirling, twisting, changing. Everything was bright, glimmering, rainbow colored. He was wearing khakis and his Tummy Pokéfinger shirt, a strange thing indeed considering he was really wearing black jeans and a black T-shirt. His weaponry was gone, except for his boot knife and gun, the one 6 gave him in Cerulean. His life always seemed surrounded in stimuli, ecspecially dreams. Music flowed from the background, Vertical Horizon's "We Are"* Images formed on the walls. Luke, his brother, cocky smile, ready to hit on a girl or lie for a cheap thrill. Penny, his mother, ever so caring and thoughtful. Chuck, his father, ready to hand out discipline and kindly advice alike. Nichole, his little sister, annoying, hyper, and so delightfully......glad for life. Friends......"Poorboy Willy", Bill, so trustworthy and strong. Jeremy, large, a bit antisocial, but so smart and logical. Kevin, stuttering, smiling, always happy. Jason, paranoid, a bit whipped by his girlfriend, with such a fervor for life. Sonya, red hair, soft face, backstabber, and somehow he could lover her for it. All signs of home. Why wasn't Koga there? Who knows. Other faces. Pokémon faces. Scyther, her mottled brown, tan, and green skin, her mouth in a funny grin. Gyarados, mouth closed, almost in a smile. Nidorino, not Nidoking, looking mean and nasty as possible. Hitmonlee didn't show up. 6, wearing his Cascade Badge collar, playing merrily. What was the meaning of it all? Then the nightmares started. Well, not nightmares. Dernam never had nightmares. Just negative dreams. More faces in the blurry, colored walls. A red-head knockout. The Rocket that had attempted to take Nidorino. Next time he saw her, Nidoking was first out. That would be good. Jesse and James, the dunces that had attempted that Pikachu back in Saffron. The purple haired anorexic one, that had not so subtly seduced Splash. Maria. Damn, Maria. First she attempts his pokéballs, then blows up a building, trying to kill people. Why? Matters weighed down on his mind. He wanted to know that answer. Why do they do it? chemical imbalance? Bad childhood? Brainwashing? People don't natuarally go after other people's lives. The question was why some do. Hopefully, he could find out. Ash, the clumsy oaf who owned the Pikachu in Saffron, came to being on the tunnel, and faded, mearly a small memory. Brock, the overzealous, underconfident lady's man from Saffron. Faces, mear images, that held little meaning. Why did he remember them? No reason, he just did. Perhaps they were important. Misty, the psychopath, the one he had met 4 times, under 2 different personas, appeared and left, leaving an empty chill as the walls faded away.** He snapped awake and looked about. He always had been a light sleeper. 6 had found and was playing with a quarter. That had woke him up. Damn 6. Never a quiet moment with him around. Outside, it was still dark, and raining softly. Derrick stood, listening, serene. Lucky guy. Dernam's life had been too weird as of late. All these Rockets, all the trouble. Was life to always be like this? That was why ATR was on his mind. Rockets were undoubtibly giving other's trouble. So sue him if he had a righteousness streak wider than a Snorlax. He had trouble stopping himself. He would be dedicated to this cause yet. Everything was like this. He took a view, an idea, a position, and stuck with it. It got him in trouble, but hell, you have to fight through that. As a guy had told him on Cycling Road, "Be prepared to fight for your beliefs!" Well, so be it. There is no use going through life the easiest that you can. You got nowhere. He would go. "Psst, 6...." 6 stopped batting around his quarter, and ran to the couch, and jumped up. Dernam put his arm around 6 and held his fuzzy body close. It was good to have something to hold. 6 curled up and went soundly to sleep. Dernam followed suit, to await the coming of dawn, the return of the glowing yellow orb that keeps icicles from forming all year round. It was getting colder, fall was at hand. The world was confusing. It was fast. It IS confusing. It IS fast. He would do what he could, and that's all he could promise. But he could promise it all if he had to. To defend what he believed in. To defend his home. His friends. Total strangers. All those who were clueless, naive, or ignorant, all have value. All deserve a chance. Give someone a chanse. "Good.....night.......6..........zzzzzzzzzzz........" TBC. * Vertical Horizon is a local band, I don't expect you to know that song. ** LOTS of backstory here, don't take it all at face value. Ethan Einhorn