13th Move: Buy Buy

13th Move: Buy Buy

Goldenrod City, Johto.

The dusk ball, and the alpha Sandshrew contained within, blipped out of existence. In a bright flash of light, the concave indent on the transfer machine now held a far more mundane regular Pokéball. “Trade complete. Please collect your Pokémon.”

It took skipping down into a dark dungeon, and stripping off a couple of Pokémon thieves, but I finally had my third teammate, first alpha, and soon, my flyer. All in all, a Pikipek (not forgetting the pair of Team Rocket uniforms bundled at the bottom of my rucksack) was a pretty good haul for a day’s worth of work. 

Scooping the ball up, I clipped my new Pikipek next to Krabby on my belt. “Hmm… What nickname should I give it - her? Woody after the woodpecker? Sam after the cereal mascot from my prior existence?” I’d chosen Pikipek to keep Alola close, but my roots ran deeper than even that. Something to serve as a reminder might be nice. Although, famous woodpecker or toucan names weren’t exactly in abundance. There was one more I had in mind, but I don’t live in a jungle.

And as much as I complained about my name, even Uki’uki was better than George.

Ping! Just as I was about to sign out of the station, a voice message from my trade partner popped up on screen. “Thanks fer this li’l feller. I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t want this critter the most from my list. Keep my number. if’n ya ever find yerself down in Alola, ring me up, I’ll show ya around Poni Canyon. Maybe we’ll even hafta battle to see how our mon’re doin’. Take care, now.” 

“Isn’t that just the sweetest-? Man, this just makes me miss Alola and the people there even more.” I hit reply on the message and spoke into the mic. “Thanks for Pikipek, it’s like having a little slice of home. Might be a while, but I won’t be a stranger when I’m back. You’re on for that battle, and let me know if you ever make it to Johto.” Then sent it off. 

Waving the guard Sentret goodbye, I made my way out of the GTS. “Collecting my new Pokémon: check. Next order of business, making a good first impression.”

Figuring out Pokémon, animals, and even people wasn’t complicated. You wanted one to like you? Bribe it with something tasty. So, naturally, I made a beeline for the department store. And when I say department store, I meant it. Everything from groceries, sundries, clothes, and camping - I wasn’t limited purely to trainer specific items. People lived their lives buying from here. 

Of course, that didn’t mean I refused to take a stroll around the pharmacy on the fourth floor. Business had been good, so I splurged a little on some vitamins, specifically protein. One bottle alone cost ten grand Pokédollars, so my wallet was a lot emptier when I returned to the streets. Not to sleep, mind you; I still had my Combee capsule back at the Pokécenter - which was what effectively helped me spend so frivolously.

Goldenrod was a great city to go gallivanting in. Every corner had something or other to explore, one in particular was my next destination. 

As I journeyed down the speckled mosaic road up the northeast end of Goldenrod, a tide of fresh, floral perfume battered against the murky ocean of urban effluence. 

After spending years living in smaller towns and weeks in the wilderness, I had developed a deep appreciation for breathing without the stench that typically permeates human habitation. Trust me when I say you can smell a horde of Muk through the sewers in certain parts of the city. 

This comfy corner of Goldenrod was a reprieve. A bell chimed as I stepped into the store. “Welcome to the flower shop. How can we kelp you today?” Flower shop was a bit of a misnomer, botanical garden or nursery would’ve suited it better. 

“I’ve got cash burning a hole in my pockets and I’d like to plug it up with some rare berries.” 

“Oh, how lovely!” With a twirl of her hips and a swirl of her blonde braid inlaid with a bouquet of colourful flowers, “walk this way, please. I’ll show you to our garden,” she beckoned, so I followed. 

The front facing store was mostly a collection of aisles dressed with pruned flowers, basic gardening tools, and bags of fertiliser. Out in the rear where she took me was far more impressive. Sometimes, the grass is greener on the other side.

An entire grove stretched out from the city’s outskirts and encroached into the thicket of trees that served as a barrier against the forest beyond. 

Rows and rows of sprouts were blossoming inside and outside greenhouses. Potted plants rested on dust covered patches and hung from wooden arches that had vines creeping up and over the banisters. We strolled deeper into the plantation. A waddle (the official nomenclature for a group) of Woopers playfully dodged between our feet as they raced for a dip into the aquaponics field. “Oops! Watch out for them, they’re on break. Ground water dual type Pokémon are great use in a garden, they can water the plants and till the soil both!” Ah, good ‘ol Pokéjobs - Galar wasn’t the only one to employ them. 

Further down the path, I spotted a hulking Rhyhorn sharpening its horn on the bark of a nearby tree. “That’s one big scarecrow. What’d he do, eat the fertiliser?” Not an alpha, but definitely jumbo sized. Good chance it was on the cusp of evolution.

My guide giggled. “Spotted that, did you! Don’t let the big lug intimidate you. We have him to drive off any pests. Despite his rocky exterior, he’s a total softy.”

“Unless I was a bug or flying type, I imagine. Bet they stay well clear of any juicy berry the Rhyhorn is patrolling around.” 

“Yep! And here we have the fruits of his labour!” She stopped in the middle of a tangle of berry trees. Pungent, ripe, and glistening with fresh dew. “Welcome to the berry bazaar. What are you in the market for?”

All of it. I wanted one of everything if I could swing it, but I was well aware of my carry capacity and limited budget. The two veterans on my team already had their taste preferences and type focus, so best to restock those first. “Let’s get a few shuca and babiri. Oh! And I also need roseli and passho berries, too.” 

She grabbed the topmost wicker basket from a pile of them, and guided me towards the corresponding trees. “Anything else?”

Pikipek I was unfamiliar with, but I had a general plan in mind, so I went with the appropriate options. “Occa and coba as well, please. Custap if you have some.”

“First two are doable, but custap is out of season.”

I thought about an alternative, “liechi berries are fine, then. Half a dozen for each type should be perfect.” Collectively, my choices should cover all the types, flavours, and stats I was looking for. 

“Coming right up, Mr big spender!” Uh-oh, that wasn’t a good sign. Oof! Ow! My wallet…

Her free hand reached under her collar and pulled out a moon ball, of all things. Yanking it off its magnetic clasp, she enlarged and tossed it. “Time to get to work, Shears!” Not only did she have the dearly expensive apriball, but she’s also modded it out with a ball capsule. A red jet of light, a shining ring of yellow crescents, a plume of floating purple flowers, and out popped her Gligar. 

At her command, it skittered up the respective trees and used its claws to select and snip the plumpest berries off the branches into the basket. As much as I wanted to admire it fluttering on its gliders from tree to tree, I couldn’t draw my attention away from the moon ball sitting in the wicker basket with the berries. “I can see why you’re so happy I’m about to beggar myself here. Apriballs cost a pretty penny.”

“Hm? So what? My Pokémon doesn’t deserve any less.” Gligar descended once it plucked the last berry on my list. Its trainer immediately swaddled it in a choke-worthy embrace. “Isn’t that right, my pruney little baby? How could anyone who really adores their Pokémon just leave them in store-bought balls? At least show you care by adding a capsule if you can’t afford the rarer ones. Unfortunately, I got my moon ball at an auction - the rest of my beauties also deserve the best, but apriballs are just way too scarce.” 

Suddenly I felt self-conscious about the three basic balls on my belt. But as she sniffed in derision, I sniffed out an opportunity. “If, for instance, I told you I had a spare heavy ball lying around for your Rhyhorn, what would you give me for it?” I didn’t, obviously. I just needed an estimate.

She conferred with herself for a moment. Her fingers stuck out, and she began counting the rings of her knuckles. “Two - maybe three times the worth of your shopping today.”

Not prohibitively expensive, but definitely profitable. Absolutely something to look into. Trainers who will shell out time and money for specialised moves would also likely ante up for custom balls, too. 

Could open up a parallel and complementary revenue stream for me. All demand, no supply.

We headed back. She packed the berries in a cardboard box stuffed with dried grass, and rung me up at the register. “That’ll be ninety-five-hundred Poké.” I paid the price, leaving me with only a pittance. “I hope you have a berry good day!” 

Heavy feet dragged me back to the Pokécenter after my shopping spree, which was funny because my pockets had never been lighter. 

So I did what any responsible, well-adjusted, prudent person would do in this dire situation. 

Call daddy.

My mother was a miser. I loved her, but there were only Spinarak spun cobwebs in my future if I reached out to her. My best chance was the man with deep pockets and deeper connections who’d nominated himself as the overseer of my journey.

Dialling the number to his phone, I sat stiff-spined in the video call booth at the Pokémon center. Pururururu - click! “Hello? This is Mr Pokémon.”

“Dear benefactor, I come to you with an exciting investment opportunity!”

“No solicitors.” Click. 

Ornery old bitch hung up on me! I called right back. Purururu - “The number you have dialled is unavailable. Please try again later.”

“You’re not even disguising your voice, you old Gogoat!”

Sarcasm was an art, and my sponsor had mastered it. “Kiki, is that you? Wow, it’s been so long since I heard your voice, I forgot what you sound like. I mean, you didn’t call when you caught your first Pokémon, you didn’t call when you earned your first badge, and not even when you completed your first trade. Learning how you swindled early inter-region access, and how you ended up as the subject of one of Oak’s radio shows, would have been a great story to tell your mother. But so far, all I’ve told her is how you’ve abandoned us. Last I heard, she’d taken up Hitmon-do; you’re in for one hell of a hug when you go back home, I’ll tell you what.” So much for feeling homesick earlier today.

… I wonder if it’s too late to join team Rocket. Gangs protect their own, right? 

The tables had turned on me, gotta act fast and flip ‘em back into place. “A-ahaha, yes, I realised my mistake, which is why I’m calling now. To make up for it, I thought I’d send mom a gift. We haven’t been back to Alola ever since we moved to Johto, so I was planning on surprising her with an all expenses paid trip. But I’m sorta strapped for cash, so I was hoping for an intro to your old buddy, Kurt. I have an idea to really boost my income alongside tutoring.”

“Mr Pokéball himself, eh? I can do that, sure.” Awesome! “But what’s in it for me?” He twirled his moustache, as well as the tables, into a negotiation one.

“The satisfaction of seeing your endorsed trainer succeed?” Hopes and prayers were all I could afford at the moment. I was already drowning myself in debt.

“Ain’t anywhere good enough. I want three things from you. Non-negotiable.” He held up three wrinkly digits to the camera; why did it feel like he was gonna use them to gouge my eyes out? 

“Shoot,” me right in the face.

“One: I want naming rights for your Pikipek. I’ve done that with all the first normal captures of my past trainers. Two: you must earn your second badge post-haste. And three: an undetermined favour, that you must fulfill, at a time of my choosing.” 

Ominous, however, beggars can’t be choosers. “Deal. Though I gotta ask, why do you want me to get the second badge so bad? The league circuit’s barely started.”

“Oh… no reason. The satisfaction of seeing my sponsored trainer succeed. Anyway, nevermind that. Release that pretty Pikipek of yours. I have the perfect name.”

When I heard it, I realized I should’ve just braved the beating my mom would’ve given.