Well of Memories

Dong ding!

The sound of that bell ringing sent shivers down Gunpowder’s spine. It was the voice of his nightmares. It could mean only one thing: a new customer had come into the store in order to attempt to buy something. The last two Pokemon that had come in were also “attempts”, as Gunpowder was incapable of finding anything the customers needed.

Shopkeep was certainly not Gunpowder’s dream profession. However, after having spent an embarrassingly long amount of time alternating between sleeping under the docks or in the gutters, it seemed rather hard to turn down such a deal.

This deal was offered to him by none other than Anana, a sweet little yellow lizard who he had been helping since arriving at the bay. At first she had him finish small tasks in exchange for food, but as the workload grew larger and larger, Anana decided it would be a better investment to hire Gunpowder on as a full-time employee in exchange for room and board.

Since she had been impressed with his prior work, Gunpowder hoped he had finally caught a break, but his performance with this first day had almost completely shattered that distorted painting of potential reality.

“Uhh.. Hello?”

The voice belonged to a tiny green lizard. Anana mentioned something about a regular like him, who she referred to by name, but Gunpowder wasn’t really the best at retaining... anything.

“Ah, apologies Mr. Snivy matey. I couldn’t see you there! You know how it is, right?”

“Eh? First you ignore me,” the Snivy said in a most distasteful voice, “and then you take a stab at my height? Do you even know who I am? Certainly not this ‘Matey’ you speak of.”

“No sir, I just meant.. I don’t know what I meant.” Gunpowder took a deep breath. “I’m new. I just started today, y’know. Cut me some slack.”

The Snivy still did not look impressed, but seemed willing to forgive Gunpowder’s immense insolence. He waved his hand dismissively. “Yes, yes, fine. I am here to pick up a package. I trust your boss told you about it.”

“One moment, sir, I will take a look for you.” Gunpowder walked towards the wall, not having the slightest idea where to find such a thing. Sweat would be dripping down his face, were he a creature capable of such a feat. He was a man of the ocean, a sea dog, and yet here he was, nervous about being unable to find a package for an annoying little morsel. Unfortunately, he was not paying enough attention to where his claws were wandering, and one of them clumsily knocked a glass bottle off the shelf.

This is it, he thought. This is the end. The loud crash drew Anana’s attention immediately, as she was concerned for the product, of course, but more so the well-being of her customers; she couldn’t bear the thought that someone could be hurt in her store. Before she could speak, the Snivy raised another objection.

"Oy, you oaf! Thankfully, that was not my package, but you must be more careful if you want to make it in this business! Seriously, I cannot believe that--"

"Penne," interupted Anana. "What have I told you about treating my employees poorly?" She put her arms on her side and gave the Snivy 'the look,' and he knew exactly what she meant.

"I.. I'm sorry, Anana. You know how it is. I'm just so busy lately and--"

"Yes, I understand," Anana interjected once again, but instead of upsetting the Snivy, it just made him more timid. "Let's see.. Ah! Here it is." She grabbed a small box off the shelf, nowhere near where Gunpowder had been searching, and handed it to the Snivy. "I'll charge it to the account," she said with a smile and a wink.

"Thank you, Anana. As usual, it was a pleasure to work with.. you." The Snivy had added extra emphasis to 'you.' Anana glared at him again. The look on his face in reply said it all, as did his rather hasty departure. Gunpowder bowed his head in shame as soon as that tasty treat was out of sight.

---

Anana walked over to Gunpowder and put her hand on his thigh. "It's OK, dearie. It's tough to start out. That gentleman is also known for being.. not so much of a gentleman. Now, chin up!"

Despite her kind words, Gunpowder refused to stop moping. She made a 'hmph' noise and walked out of sight. She wasn't gone for long, since Gunpowder could hear the sound of a crate sliding across the hard floor. Just then, he felt something get planted atop his head. He looked behind himself to see Anana standing on top of the box.

"There! This seems to always cheer people up. Here, take a look," Anana said with a gleeful smile and a mirror in her hand. On his head was now the most ridiculous hat he had ever seen. It was a big, flowery purple sombrero that said "ANANA" across the top. Due to the symmetry of her name, it was clear even to Gunpowder what it said through the reflection. He couldn't help but giggle a little at the sight of his own misery.

"See, sweetie? I knew it would help! Your punishment for being sad for something that isn't your fault is to wear this hat. After all, the image of my business is important, and this hat just screams 'me'!" Anana snickered to herself as well. Gunpowder knew she was mostly just joking, but he really appreciated the efforts. She always treated him like this.

Dong ding!

Another customer. Great, Gunpowder thought to himself. Another chance to mess up, but this time in front of my boss. Anana's face lit up.

"Come on in, I've got everything you could possibly need! Make yourself at home!"

She looked up at Gunpowder, urging him to lean forwards so that she could whisper to him. "Let me handle this one, dear. If you watch me, you'll learn a great deal about how to handle customers." She hopped off her throne atop the crate and cheerfully went to assist the customer.

Anana handled everything quickly and elegantly. Not only did she know exactly what the customer wanted without having been told, the small talk she made elicited laughter from said customer. Gunpowder was giving her his full attention, but he just couldn't see himself replicating what was just done. He just wasn't a Pokemon-Pokemon.

After concluding the business transaction, Anana held herself high, a big smile across her face. Gunpowder knew the real reason she took the reigns. She wanted him to learn how to handle customers better, sure, but more than that she wanted to show off. Gunpowder had known her for long enough to figure that much out, at least. She was good at hiding it.

“See? It’s not so bad! You just have to stay positive!” Anana could definitely tell Gunpowder was all but positive, and her face reflected this. Never had a smile turned upsidedown so quickly. “Come on, Gunpowder. You look like you’ve got something else on your mind today. What is it?”

“It.. It be nothin’, OK? I just don’t think I be able to do this yet, s’all. Can we trade jobs fer today? I promise I’ll get good at this, but.. just not today, aye?”

Anana stared into the very depths of Gunpowder’s soul. She knew he was hiding something, but she also knew there was no sense in prying. If he wasn’t going to say, nothing would change that. She let out a sigh of defeat.

“Fine, fine. Go help Fabian in the back with counting inventory,” Anana said rather dismissively. Before she had even finished, she had found something much more interesting to fiddle with on the shelves to pass the time until the next customer came in. I can’t really count, Gunpowder thought to himself. Bad time to mention it, though. Not like there’d ever be a good time. Anana probably thought he was an idiot.

---

He moped his way towards the back room, but it was empty, save for a large number of boxes, bottles, chairs, a desk.. Not that empty, then. Still, Fabian was nowhere in sight. Guess I’ll wait for him, then...

In front of the desk was what appeared to be a lillypad, but the way it was positioned made it look like a chair. Anana was known for her green and nature-esque themes sometimes, so it didn’t seem that unusual to Gunpowder. When he placed his big butt atop the chair and it spoke, however, he knew something was amiss.

“Watch where you’re pointing that thing there, muchacha!” The chair stood up on its feet, being surprisingly tall for a.. lilypad. Gunpowder’s lack of deductive reasoning was sometimes surprising, but in this case, it did not fail him, and he guessed correctly that this creature was Fabian.

“Eh.. Yeah, that’s me,” replied Fabian in a most sluggish voice. “I was enjoyin’ a bit of a siesta while waiting for my chica to come back. We got a lot of countin’ to do still.” He scoped Gunpowder out. “Why’re you here, anyway, eh? This area’s for employees only, muchacha.”

“Aye, I am an employee. Just started. Been helpin’ Anana for a while, but not here at the shop. This be rather new to me, and I got sent back here ‘cause--” Gunpowder thought for a moment, his face turning a bit red. Best not tell the truth to someone he only just met. “--well, ‘cause I’m not feelin’ too well today, yeah. So Anana sent me back to give ya a bit of a hand!”

“Oh. An idiot, then, eh?” Fabian scoffed. He knew that Anana wouldn’t let someone in the back unless she trusted them enough to not steal, or if she thought they were too stupid to do so. Since Fabian hadn’t heard of Gunpowder before, process of elimination pointed to only one answer.

Despite those words cutting Gunpowder real deep, he laughed. His situation was rather amusing, after all. It’s not like he was in this God-forsaken bay by choice anyway. He didn’t actually care what the residents thought of him. He knew he was wise in ways they would never understand.

Gunpowder wasn't about to leave it at that, though. He explained to Fabian his arrival at the bay. Gunpowder remembered being on his ship with Bluegill, and then.. something.. happened. His memory was foggy about that point. A total blank. He remembered being on the ship, and then waking up in the care of some doctors at the bay. Anana was there to comfort him; she later explained that her and Bluegill were associates. Surprising, since Bluegill was a scurvy pirate and Anana was but a child. Life is full of surprises, though. From then until talking to Fabian, he had just been helping Anana.

Fabian listened to the whole story intently and, in fact, seemed to quite enjoy it. Once Gunpowder had finished, Fabian apologized for his previous remark and said that Gunpowder was a “buena muchacha." Whatever that meant. Gunpowder felt his story had wasted enough time and was about to ask what work was required of him, but Fabian had a different idea: more time was to be wasted with stories. The onslaught of questions was almost unbearable. About Gunpowder's hometown, about what it was like to sail on the sea, about his experiences with Anana. It was just too much.

Finally, Fabian gave up on asking Gunpowder for more stories. Unfortunately, the pirate was not free. Not even close. It was time for Fabian to tell his own stories, and he could probably spend an entire week telling them. All of them were long, all of them were boring. Well, all of them but one, though Gunpowder’s lack of attention made it hard to catch. It was something concerning Anana's sister.. Apparently, this girl had run away and no one had seen her since. Anana had never mentioned her sister to Gunpowder before, so it was worth storing in Ye Olde Mental Bank. Otherwise, Gunpowder’s mind had left.

"H-hey," shouted a familiar voice. It was Anana. "What are you two-- Fabian! Are you wasting time again?!" She had placed her hands on her hips and spoke in a firm tone. Almost like an angry mother. For all Gunpowder knew, Fabian was actually Anana's adopted son.

"A-ah, Miss Anana. I was just tellin' this new guy how we do business around here and--"

"No buts, Fabian," interrupted Anana. Fabian hadn't said 'but', so Gunpowder thought it a bit odd...

"Right, right. Lo siento, chica." Fabian bowed his head in shame.

"It's OK, dearie. You'll just have to stay back extra late to make up for it! Then I'll let you go home." She winked at Gunpowder when saying this, as if it were an inside joke for the two of them. She then turned her attention directly to Gunpowder. "Speaking of home... it's time to close up shop! I've already finished everything, so I hope you're ready for some supper!"

Gunpowder was always ready for supper. And lunch, and breakfast, and mid-day snacksies, and before-bed-comfort-meal, and the list went on. He liked to eat, in any case. Of course, instead of informing Anana of his gluttony, he simply nodded and followed her out of the store.

---

Gunpowder couldn't take his mind off the story he was told. All he could really remember was 'sister.' He was just so bad at paying attention to boring stories. Fabian probably explained everything, but Gunpowder didn't care at the time. Best to get it direct from the source, he thought.

"Hey Anana," said Gunpowder, reluctantly. "Do ya.. do ya have a sister?"

Anana stopped dead in her tracks. Her expression, jubilant moments before, became blank. She almost appeared dazed. This was not something he was used to. It was almost a little frightening. As quickly as the change came, it left, and Anana once again regained her cheerful disposition. She turned and smiled up at Gunpowder.

"Oh, yes! I do. But don't worry about her, she moved out ages ago." Anana resumed walking, as if nothing had happened.

"R-right. What be for dinner?" Gunpowder inquired, trying to change the subject without seeming rude. Hard for him, since his voice was rather gruff. He always came off kind of rude.

"Oh, dear! Do I have something big planned for you! After all, you worked hard for me on your first day!"

No I didn't, thought Gunpowder. Still, he was excited to forget about the disaster that today was and get some food in his gut. Anana's cooking was always most excellent. Top notch! Not much further now...

Before long, they arrived at the luxuriant Kecleon house. Gunpowder had the vague notion that it was Anana’s parents’ house and not simply her own. It might as well have been for how often either one of the parents showed up, though. Seldom, Gunpowder would see Anana’s mother zipping about, always stressing over one preparation or another. It didn’t really register in his mind as something to think about. He was usually too concerned for himself.

Today was not one of those days that Anana’s parents would make a rare appearance. No, it ended up being a much worse guest for both Anana and Gunpowder.

As Anana opened the door, she let out a gasp, the sort that gets caught in your throat and then chokes you a little. This instantly set off Gunpowder’s instincts to be on guard, fight if necessary. He was the type of guy to want to brawl in response someone else’s fright or surprise. Probably it was just the result of years of scuffles hard ingrained into his nerves. It didn’t matter. (His own surprise, though? That was another story. Devonshire ended up being very good at completely catching Gunpowder off guard. This, of course, is something Gunpowder would never want to admit, but it was always written all over his face. Devonshire had a way of doing that to near everyone. Not even on purpose, you must know.)

Expecting an intruder, all he saw was another Kecleon. Not the mom. No, this definitely wasn’t the mom. He, she, it(?) looked a bit crazed. Wasn’t the dad. The dad was always angry, the mom was always stressed. This one was purple with crazy splotches of pink and white, and-

“That yer sis?” he asked, more to himself than Anana. She wasn’t even listening anyway. She was intently focused on who Gunpowder was pretty sure had been the missing sister (had been, up until they opened the door to the house, anyway--she was no longer missing, you see).

“Back so soon?” Anana asked that wild girl. If she was upset, she didn’t intone it. Gunpowder envisioned Anana amusedly asking the same of a customer who’d accidentally forgotten to buy something, or who’d left something behind in the shop. This was not the case though. She was not welcoming this sister Kecleon, this rough, irritating, infuriating girl he would end up seeing again some short few years later, that PK whose name he did not yet know but whose name he would soon find out.

A brief glare was the only response our kind Anana received before that Other Kecleon went back to stuffing items into a small burlap sack, the kind that were kept around the kitchen. Anana stepped into the building, not satisfied. That Other Kecleon, that Sister Kecleon, she was busy. Fruits and berries from all around the kitchen had been gathered, but only a few were actually going into the sack. There was only so much space. She might have been leaving again. It seemed that way. No, she was leaving again, Gunpowder remembered. She left after their fight. He skipped back in time to that moment, to before Anana changed and never came back.

He was still outside, looking in at the two. Ready to hop in if Anana needed it. She was his employer, after all. If he didn’t take care of her, he’d be out of work, and that would simply be no good.

“You know, Mom and Dad have been mad ever since you left. I’m surprised you had the nerve to return after what you did,” Anana said. Not a bit of malice in that statement. Just a fact of life laid out nice and clear for the Other.

“So what?” she spat. “They got what they wanted,” that Other, that PK replied. Here, a sort of bitter resignation could be found. What happened? He never actually found out, not in the then, not in the now. He never could talk to PK in the now, and Anana’s facade had become much too thick to cut through. The now was different.

But this was the then.

“You think it’s so easy? I guess you might think that! It’s always been easy for you, hasn’t it been, sissy kecky? You set them back months. Months of extra hours and time they had to work, you know. They’re still years from their goal. Because of you! Because of your selfish whims. I hope you know that!” Anana said. It might still have been something said in passing to a much-liked and favored shopper. This marked Gunpowder’s transition into feeling uneasy and not wanted in this scene. This was when he started to feel rather conspicuous, like a dusty plaid recliner in a room full of precious antiques. He didn’t really belong here. This was only something for the two sisters. Yet, he felt inclined to watch. So...

“I’m getting out of here,” that Other replied. Gunpowder realized what she looked like now. Some sort of tribal Pokemon. Those markings had to be a type of pigment, probably found in the nearby forest. Some were faded, most were a mixture of smudged and spread in erratic ways, and a few looked freshly and cleanly applied.

“I’m sure. You’d love nothing more than to skirt duty, wouldn’t you? Had everything all laid out for you and what? You crush it beneath your little toes. You do that to anything that’s nice, don’t you?”

“Mom’s sending me,” that PK, that purple, pink, marked one replied. This must not have been the expected response, for Anana went silent for longer than a beat.

“Sending you away? I’m not surprised. You’re really not fit to-”

“To Tao. She’s sending me to Tao,” PK interrupted. “To Dad, to do what you can’t,” she added after a moment of reconsideration. The bitterness was gone and her face twitched into a deranged smile occasionally, but Gunpowder could see this was really the face of a terribly downcast girl. He wanted to feel some sort of pity without even knowing her situation. Maybe he did feel a pang or two.

---