It took Geoffrey only a few moments to realize that he’d have to be the one
to take action. Neither of the others would move, they were in shock. He
didn’t blame them, either. Not in the least. Still, they couldn’t stand on
the porch all night.
“Could we come in,” he raised an eyebrow, motioning to the door.
Ashley nodded slowly, stepping aside as though in a dream. She probably
felt like it, too. He hadn’t been sure how she’d react, but this had been
one action he’d foreseen. Looking back at his brother he nodded towards the
doorway. No movement.
Shrugging, he walked inside and stood behind the doorway. “Hello, Ashley,”
he held out his hand.
She raised her green eyes, and he wasn’t surprised to observe a film of
tears lining the bottom oh her eyes. “Hi,” she whispered, shaking the hand,
than immediately turned her attention back to the doorway.
“Are you coming?” he directed the question at Giovanni, who nodded slowly
and walked in, never taking his eyes off of Ashley.
Geoffrey waited another moment before shutting the door quietly and turning
back to the two. They were both staring at each other, their gazes mixtures
of sadness, hate, and love. He almost didn’t want to stop it, but knew he
had to.
“Are you two going to stand here all night?”
Ashley’s voice came out choked, “We can go in the living room…” and then,
shaking her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe it.” With that, she headed
towards the next room.
Giovanni, who hadn’t spoken a word yet, simply followed as she led them in.
He sat on a soft turquoise chair, and she sat on a navy blue couch across
form him. Geoffrey stood, feeling that it’d be better if he left them alone.
“So, are you two going to be able to talk at all?” he asked, not quite sure
if they would.
“Yes, I think so,” it was the woman who spoke again. Than, out of what
Geoffrey was sure was her every-day hospitality, “Do you want something to
drink?”
He immediately wished she hadn’t asked him… or at least hadn’t put the
question in that particular format. At that moment he wanted more than a
drink, and he wanted the sort that would help him forget for a night. He’d
been trying to keep it off his mind, and had been able for some time. Now
that she mentioned it, however, he felt his throat become dry and his eyes
burn.
What he wanted was what he didn’t want, in short. He didn’t want to become
entangled in the web of drinking, but it seemed too late already.
Apparently, the wonderful Professor had been a proficient drinker for quite
some time. Apparently, he had inherited that excellent quality.
Ashley must have seen that something was wrong, because her eyes showed a
sort of concern for him. “You can make a pot of coffee.”
“I think I will,” he turned towards the kitchen, shaking his head.
Judging by the look in her eyes, the tone of voice, the suggestion, she had
known. Somehow, she knew. She was one that would always know if someone was
up to something, or attached to something. At least she hadn’t come right
out and said it.
The kitchen was clean, sparkling clean almost, and he found himself
wondering what in the hell the woman did all day besides clean house. From
what he knew, her son was off on some adventure or other, and the others in
her family were gone…
In a flash, he knew that she was lonely, just as he was. He realized that
she had been lonely for a long time, and that she had found a way to manage
it. The thought that she had experimented with alcohol, maybe even something
stronger, crossed his mind, though he couldn’t see her doing it. Still, life
was strange. Very strange.
He picked up a bag of coffee grounds that were leaning against a coffee
machine. Hazelnut… and it certainly smelled like it. It wasn’t what he
wanted, was in fact, the opposite, but it would do.
As he poured the grounds into the pot, he realized that he hadn’t heard
their voices yet. So they still hadn’t spoken… He knew they’d get around to
it at some time, but didn’t know when. They were acting like children, in
his opinion, but he said nothing. Instead, he poured the water in, than
turned the machine on.
The second he turned away, there came a knock on the door. “Ashley?” a
voice, muffled by the door, inquired.
After a quick look at the living room, Geoffrey realized that, once again,
he was going to have to do something about it. He walked over to the door,
wondering who else could possibly stop by the house at that time of night.
It seemed strange, very strange.
“Maybe it’s her father, fresh outta the Cinnibar Maximum Security,” he
though humorlessly, and pulled open the door.
On the porch stood a man at least half a foot shorted than Geoffrey, and
about twenty years older. His drastically thinning, light-brown, almost
white, hair hung sloppily over his bushy eyebrows, and his eyes looked
tired. He was dressed in khaki pants that were slightly too large for him,
and a deep red shirt. When he spoke again, it was with a slight accent, and
before he looked up. “I’m sorry to bother you this late at night, but I was
wondering if you had an edition of…”
Geoffrey’s eyes widened, and he felt his fists immediately clamp in upon
themselves tightly. “You…” he snarled, trying to hold back, and at the same
time almost wishing he wouldn’t.
For a moment, there was confusion on the man’s face, and then a look of
understanding. “Geoffrey, what are you doing here?”
Behind him, he heard Giovanni’s voice for the first time, sounding more
than slightly ticked. “You know goddamn well.”
Edward Oak looked at him, and an understanding filled his face. “No… this
isn’t right!”
“Neither are you,” Geoffrey growled, grabbing the door handle in his right
hand. “Goodnight.”
“But…”
Geoffrey slammed the door, half-expecting it to open from the outside, and
half-expecting on of the two in the other room to comment. Neither happened,
however, and he walked slowly over to the coffeepot.
He couldn’t believe that he’d seen that son-of-a-bitch again. He hadn’t
wanted to, hadn’t wanted to see him ever again. And that look of
understanding… what had that been?
Geoffrey didn’t know, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to.
-
Giovanni stared at his wife for the longest time, unable to speak. What
could he say? Here was the woman he had loved, found he still did love. Here
was the woman who had left him. Here was the woman he hadn’t seen in at
least ten years. What could he say?
The dilemma was what left him speechless, standing in front of her like a
fool. She hadn’t said much, either. Most had been to Geoffrey…
Geoffrey. Why had he even brought him there? How had he been able to do
that? It was strange, something he never would’ve expected, and yet he was
glad it had happened. Because he knew he wouldn’t make it through the whole
ordeal. Someone would find him, somehow, somewhere. If he was going to have
to die, he didn’t want to do it without saying something to her.
She was still looking at him, and he began to feel strangely uncomfortable.
It was something he hadn’t felt in a long time, and didn’t want to be
feeling. She was causing him to feel more uncomfortable than she did when he
was facing his most murderous agents, or even that goddamn court.
Uncontrollably, he found himself growing angry with her. He didn’t want to,
but was anyway. How could she just sit there staring at him? How could she
keep looking at him so accusuingly, making him feel so guilty? She had been
the one who walked out, after all. A door opened and shut, yet he didn’t
hear it.
Finally, when he thought he’d go insane, she spoke softly. “Why did you do
it?”
It was a question full of a terribly hurt sincerity, and it somehow angered
him that she had even asked. “You know goddamn well!” It was rougher than he
had intended, which set him off even further. Why couldn’t he control
himself?
“No…” she shook her head calmly, not helping his anger at all. “I don’t
know. That’s why I asked the question.” Simply staring at him, she was
keeping herself better than he, and he knew it.
How could she remain so calm, so levelheaded? He felt his whole mind in
turmoil, felt it rushing with everything that had happened in the last few
days. He didn’t know how much he could stand, thought he would lose it, and
here she was, calmly asking question like an interrogator.
It was maddening, that’s what it was. “Because I felt like it. How the hell
should I know? It was ten years ago!” He hadn’t meant to yell, but there it
was. The door slammed in the kitchen, but registered no importance to him.
Looking slightly upset, but he guessed, not because of the level of his
voice, she sighed. “We won’t get anywhere by fighting.”
She was right, and he knew that too. So why couldn’t he control what he
said, how he acted? There was a small itching in the back of his mind, one
he had pushed away, but what if it were true? What if Ashley just wanted to
talk?
“Jackass,” the voice in his mind spat. “Of course she just wants to talk it
out! What do you think she’s been trying to do?”
He hated the sound of that voice, and was annoyed that it, too, was
correct. His anger at himself increased, until Ashley spoke again. “Don’t
let it kill you, Giovanni. If it hurts too much, don’t talk about it.”
There was real concern in her eyes, and it finally broke his uncertainty.
Of course he knew why he had done it. “I did it because she wanted me too…
Maria.”
“Your mother?” she looked at him levelly. “Is that all?”
There was no use lying, and he knew it. “No,” he shook his head heavily.
“There was the money, I suppose, although it never has held as much for me
as the work. The power was what did it, the power was what I wanted.”
He hadn’t told anyone that before. The fact that no one had known just why
he’d taken the job was fine with him. And he had enjoyed the power. “They
all listened to me… Every one of them. Their attention was on me. If I said
‘shoot someone’ they damn well had better have, because they knew the
consequences. The rules were hard, the punishment was harder.”
Her eyes never left his during all of this. “You… killed people.”
He nodded, contemplating his response. Of course he had, they’d had it
coming. “They were the ones who deserved it. They were the one who were
against us, and would’ve killed us.”
“But they were still living people!” the slight raise in her voice startled
him momentarily, but he found himself, thankfully, remaining calm again. It
seemed that she was the one growing anxious now.
He knew the mentality of most people, and figured that it was the ‘correct’
way of thinking. Killing was wrong. He’d heard it everywhere, but never been
taught it. No one had ever come out and told him it wasn’t right, or
justifiable, so he didn’t feel that way. To him, killing was natural. It
was derived of an emotion, one he often found himself with plenty of, and
used on those who were stupid or unlucky enough to get in the way. Sort of
like natural selection. The rules of society held no impact on his beliefs,
and never had.
“They deserved to have it done,” he shrugged.
“How could you?” her voice wavered.
“It was what I learned,” his eyes caught hers, and immediately he was sorry
the subject had even been brought up. She looked so hurt… How could she? Was
it his fault?
Of course it was. He’d been the one to finish it off, after all. He’d been
doing it without thinking, and now he wish he had stopped himself. Because
now she was there, and she was upset. He didn’t want to see her that way,
wanted her to be happy.
Without thinking of what he was doing, without realizing he was even doing
it, Giovanni stood up and walked the two steps over to the couch to stand
beside Ashley. She didn’t look up at him, and strands of her auburn hair
hung in front of her eyes. He loved her, and he knew it.
Sitting down beside her, he gently brushed a strand of the hair away from
her left eye, and looked at her. “Ashley, I’m sorry. No one ever told me the
difference between ‘right’ and ‘wrong’. I should’ve known, should’ve felt it
but I must admit… I did enjoy what I did.”
“I know,” she nodded slowly, still gazing at the floor.
He tried a different approach. “I’ve missed you…” she didn’t reply, and he
continued. “I don’t know if you’ll believe me, Ashley, but I’ve missed you
horribly, wanted you beside me. Do you know how much it hurt to be alone? To
have no one? I lived in a darkness, and in darkness there is only solitude.
I’ve wanted to see you again, have torn myself apart for having done what I
did, for having let you leave, for being foolish enough to be unable to
realize that you were gong to go.
“Every morning, I found myself alone and hated myself for going wrong. Every
day, I wanted to give it all up and find you. I’m not sure why I didn’t… It
was all one big rush. I didn’t want you to go, because… I love you. I
honestly do love you.”
Finally, she raised her head, looking at him with a sort of understanding.
“Oh…” her green eyes glittered, and he could see the rims lined with water.
“ I love you too.”
At that moment, forgetting everything else, Giovanni embraced his wife for
the first time in over ten years. He felt his mind clear, felt his problems
melt away momentarily. He loved her, and he’d been waiting for this. For the
moment, all was well.
Edward Oak’s hands shook as he dialed the phone. He was in disbelief, or a
state of it, and knew very well, but didn’t care. For the moment, that sort
of thing didn’t matter. What mattered was what he had seen, or rather… What
he had heard.
All he’d wanted to do was borrow a book on evolutionary evidence, a book
he’d wanted to use for a research paper he was putting together, one he’d
intended to make shine to the scientific world. He’d gone over to Ashley’s
to see if she had one, and then…
And then he’d seen his sons. Well, he’d seen one of his sons, and he’d
looked pissed beyond belief. Not that Ed blamed him. In his heart, he knew
what he’d done was wrong. He never should have done it in the first place,
and even after that, he should’ve let the news out easier, should’ve made it
easier for Geoffrey to take…
But he hadn’t and that was in the past. At least, for him it was.
Apparently, Geoffrey hadn’t let it go. It angered him when he thought about
it. Why wouldn’t the man just forgive and forget? It wasn’t as if it was
terrible, after all.
Than he’d always come to that block that said that yes, it was that bad. It
had hurt Geoffrey, and would never leave. For that, he hated himself.
So he’d tried to forget. Tried to get on with his life, to leave it all
behind. And even tonight he wouldn’t have done anything, probably would’ve
just left if it hadn’t been for what he’d heard.
Giovanni had been inside of the house. He’d heard the man’s voice, clear as
glass even to his failing ears, and realized immediately who it was. He’d
gone to see his wife… his ex-wife, but…
It was wrong! He wasn’t supposed to be there, was supposed to be locked up!
Ed cringed at the thought, without realizing he had stopped dialing. It was
a terrible thing to think, even of someone like that. After all, he was
Giovanni’s father… Still, he couldn’t help it. It wasn’t RIGHT!
He’d always known something like that was going to happen to his younger
son. In the house he was living in, it came as no surprise… After Geoffrey
had left, Ed had taken to alcohol. Or maybe it’d be more correct to say that
the alcohol had taken hold of him.
During that time, that awful time he preferred to forget, he knew he’d been
negligent. He knew he’d been angry, been tired, and probably abusive to
anyone who got in his way. He didn’t want to think of that, though. All he
wanted to was to get this over with, to be done with it.
Could he do it? Could he report his own son? He didn’t doubt it. After all,
he wasn’t the most righteous man… Doing this seemed right, and if it wasn’t,
it was simply another mistake.
Quickly, before he could change his mind, he dialed. The phone rang, and
was answered by a tired-sounding man. “Viridian Police department. How may I
help you?”
For one terrible moment he blanked out, and then the Professor remembered.
“This is Edward Oak in Pallet.”
“Hey, Professor,” the man’s voice sounded slightly cheerier, and it struck
Ed that everyone respected him despite his past… Than again, how many of
them actually knew his past?
“We have a… a…” he stumbled over the words.
“Spit it out,” the voice smiled.
“An escaped convict,” he felt the words roll dryly out of his mouth. It
hurt to say them, he realized. Even though he knew he was right, it hurt. It
didn’t sound right, not at all.
“Where?” the voice was immediately alert.
“Ashley Ketchum’s house,” it occurred to him that he had almost said ‘Oak’
as her last name… He felt himself losing it and was unable to stop.
“We’ll be right over. Is she all right?”
“Yes, she’s fine.” He wondered when the question would come up.
“Who is it?”
There it was. Took the man long enough to ask. Ed hoped he could answer.
For a moment he couldn’t, his throat was too dry, and then he found he
could. “Giovanni Oak.”
“Oh…” there was a slight pause. “We’ll be right down. Stay calm.”
“I will. Thank you.”
He hung up and lowered himself slowly into the chair beside the phone. He
hoped he’d done the right thing. He really, honestly did.
-
Harris Ragner, deputy of the Viridian City police department, hung up the
phone and jumped up from his desk. He couldn’t believe what was happening.
For him, this was the chance of a lifetime. He could prove himself, could
show that he deserved to be in a better position, with a much larger salary.
At present, he felt underpaid and underappreciated. Nobody respected him,
or so he thought, no one saw his full potential. If he could catch this guy,
he’d be in for some big time rewards.
Hurridly, he pulled his holster out of his desk and stuck his gun in it. No
need to take any chances, not with a criminal. He’d fired before, and could
do it again…
The phone rang, and he picked it up. “Viridian police department, how may I
help you?” He felt impatient, wanted to slam down the phone, but kept at it.
He was worried that the unanswered call would be reported. What he wasn’t
thinking, though he had no need to worry, was that while he talked, ‘the
convict’ was wreaking havoc.
“Yeah,” the voice on the other end was groggy and thick. “My name is Jim
Chet, Celadon City warden. We’ve had a break-out, and I was, uh, I was
knocked out.”
Ragner was immediately interested. “How’d he escape?” It would help to have
details for when higher-level officials arrived. It never crossed his mind
that they might be upset because he had gone out on his own.
“Some guy broke him up… look one helluva lot like him, come to think of it.
Got me out of it,” Ragner was having trouble understanding the guy, and
found himself growing impatient again. “I hadda tell someone…”
“Thanks, I’ll get right too it. We’ll call you back.”
“Thank you very…”
Ragner slammed the phone down and grabbed his jacket, slipping it over his
shoulders. He flicked off the light switches, and headed out through the
lobby. Jenny looked up at him in surprise, her eyes exhausted as she looked
over a stack of files. He felt disdain for her, how easily she’d shown she
could work, how easily she’d moved up. As he felt that, he knew he couldn’t
tell her about what he was doing.
“Harry?” she sounded surprised, with that constant half-squeak in her
voice. “Where are you going?”
“Some guy called in, said there was a cat up a tree,” it was lame, he knew
it was, but she’d buy it. She always bought corny shit like that.
“Oh, well, thanks for going over. I’m really busy here,” she motioned to
the pile of folders, “And I really appreciate it.”
“Hey, no problem,” he grinned at her, feeling a sense of triumph. “I don’t
mind at all.”
With that, he headed out the door. His car was parked almost directly in
front of the station, and he felt a sense of relief that no one had said
anything about it, than discarded the thought. He climbed in, than started
the car and pulled out. -
Jenny looked out the door with a puzzled expression on her face. It wasn’t
like Ragner to be so… Ready to work. As far as she could remember, he’d
never done anything without being told, and even then it was only a 50/50
chance that he’d complete the task.
That was why he’d never made it any further, why he’d been forced to stay
put at the bottom. Everyone passed him by, all the new kids who came
included. He had always seemed to hold that to everyone, but no one cared.
To them, it hadn’t mattered.
Now that he had shown some initiative, she felt that maybe he could make
it. Even if it was just a cat in a tree, it was a start. Anything that could
get a person going… That’s what they should do.
“Good for him,” she murmured absently, turning back to the file.
-
Ragner reached the edge of Pallet town soon after. He parked at the edge of
town, probably one of the only smart decisions he made that night, and
walked in. There wasn’t much at all to be seen, but he’d already known that
much.
He saw shadows of houses in the gloom, as well as silhouettes of trees and
shrubbery. It was one of those ‘nice’ towns, where everyone knew everyone.
Not that he cared, all he had to do was find Mrs. Ketchum’s house.
There it was, right up ahead. Not very far from where he had parked, as a
matter of fact… But it was too late to do anything about that.
There was a car parked across the street and he walked casually over to it.
Suddenly, he was in no rush. He knew he could afford to wait, was sure that
‘the convict’ wasn’t gone. He wanted to take it easy, and, again, forgot
that there was a woman in the house, that maybe she was in danger.
He jotted the license number of the car down, than shoved the small
notebook back into his pocket. As he walked across again, he pulled out the
handgun. He found that he wanted to use it. Maybe if he killed the guy, made
it look like an accident, than they wouldn’t…
But no. Even he wasn’t stupid enough to try something like that. It was
beyond stupidity, beyond his ‘morals’. He’d just scare the guy, get him back
in the car, back to jail. With these thoughts in mind, he checked the
safety, making sure it was on.
Than he sat down on an old tree stump in the soft grass, resting his feet
and waiting, forgetting all else, forgetting his real duties. All he wanted
to was to catch the guy, and he’d do it. So he kept waiting.
