Chapter 11: For Progress's Sake

I was only in the garden by myself for a few seconds before I heard small feet make their way towards me.

"I don't want to talk about it." I said harshly.

"What about to my brother? Would you talk to him?" Demi asked.

"I don't even know him."

"So? He wouldn't judge you for anything. There's no reason not to tell him things."

"I'm about to lose all the patience I've built up if you continue talking about this." I warned her.

"I'm just trying to help. I've lost my mom and dad. Don't you think I know what it's like?" Demi paused, "You were close to him. He taught you not to be scared, but you still are."

"Stop talking." I said loudly. I took back kind of liking her. She was a pain.

"I'm just trying to-"

"Stop. Talking."

Demi opened her mouth uncertainly. I knew she was hurt. I didn't need to be an aura reader to know that.

"I'll tell the others you've left because you're busy. I won't tell them about what I saw." Demi said quietly.

"Thank you." I answered stiffly, giving her one last glance before descending down the hill. I felt her eyes on me the entire time.

When I got back to the Pokemon Center, I decided to battle. My brain needed to focus on a task. Unfortunately, all the Trainers passing through were amateurs. I beat them easily, without trying. I could have beaten them without giving any orders and with my Pokemon blindfolded, which reminded me of Demi showing off with her stupid bandana. My anger at her flared again, not only for her incessant questions, but because she was the only one I'd battled recently who'd been a challenge. A mere nine year old, a challenge in so many ways.

I decided to take a walk, going towards the outskirts of the valley to get my mind off of her. Perhaps if I changed scenery, I would be able to focus on happier things. Perhaps happy memories were the key to healing.

The trees surrounded me. Taillow twittered, hopping from branches as Wurmple wormed their ways along branches. The sun filtered in through the leaves, the wind waving through them. The forest was friendly. If only my thoughts were.

I took a deep breath and focused on my uncle, going back into my childhood.

"Well, are you coming, or are you just going to sit in the guest room all day reading?"

I looked up from my book to see my Uncle Ben standing in the doorway. It was the first time I'd ever visited by Uncle by myself. He didn't live too far away, but he wasn't always at home either. My mother always forced me and Reggie to visit, but never for an extended period of time and never all alone.

"I want to finish this book." I stated, lifting the pages back to my eyes.

Uncle Ben strode over to me and took the book gently, but without my permission. He studied it, "This is a chapter book and you haven't even started Kindergarten yet."

"I like to read." I reached for the book, but he held it out of my reach.

"Your mom tells me you don't go out and play with anyone. You just sit in your room by yourself and read." He said gently.

"Yeah. I like to read." I restated. I did like to read, which is why I was reading.

"Well, today we're going to go out and I'm going to teach you how to draw. Doesn't that sound exciting?"

"No."

The smile on his face faltered, "Oh, come on Paul. No nephew of mine is going to not like drawing. I taught Reggie and now I'm going to teach you."

My nose shriveled. I didn't want to learn like Reggie did.

Uncle Ben paused, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

He didn't seem to believe me, but stood up straight, "Come on, Paul. Don't worry, it'll be fun."

I numbly wondered what fun really felt like before I followed him out the door, abandoning my book on the guest bed.

Half an hour later, we were deep into the forest outside of my uncle's house, geared with sketchpads and pencils. I tested the pencil in my hand. It didn't feel like it should be there. I knew how to read really well, but I didn't practice my writing ever. He had me draw shapes, all of them turning out lumpy, which was discouraging.

"Don't worry, they'll get better." He patted me on the back. I scooted away a little, not used to the touch.

We continued practicing for what felt like hours, my circles getting smoother, my lines lighter.

"You see that sleeping Starly up there?" My uncle whispered suddenly.

I nodded. It was a few trees away and wasn't very high up, so we could see it perfectly.

"I think you're ready to draw him."

My mouth fell open a little in shock, "But I'm not perfect yet."

Uncle Ben let out a huff, "Hey, you don't have to be perfect. I'm not even perfect, ok? And I'm an adult."

My eyes widened at him. Weren't grown-ups supposed to be good at everything? Besides, how was I supposed to draw this Starly if I'd never drawn anything besides little kid type drawings?

"Here, I'll go step by step. The Starly won't be moving, so it'll be easy to take our time." Uncle Ben explained, "Let's start with a circle..."

I didn't know how much time passed, but soon I was staring at my completed Starly drawing. The lines were a bit wobbly, and one of its wings was at a weird angle. Not to mention its head was too big. I looked over to my Uncle's sketch pad to see a perfect replica. My hand reached to tear the page to crumple it up.

Uncle Ben grabbed it, "Hey, don't even think about throwing out your masterpiece."

I frowned, "But it's not any good. It's not like yours."

"No, maybe not, but I've been drawing since I was your age. And let me tell you, you're a natural. Much better than I was." He gave me a smile.

I removed my hand from the paper, "It's still not good."

"Maybe not, but it'll get better with time."

I sat silently, looking at the ground.

"How about you come over to my house every week so I can give you lessons?"

I looked up suspiciously, "You'd do that?"

"Of course. Anything for my nephew." He tried to mess up my hair, but I cringed away till he stopped, "Would you like that?"

I nodded suddenly, not expecting the curt bob of my head or the offer. I still didn't really think he'd want to give me lessons. No one ever wanted to spend time with me. I snapped back into reality as Uncle Ben took my sketchpad and began scribbling on it.

I frowned, wondering why he was changing it, before he showed the note he'd made, which read, "Paul's fantastic first drawing. What a bright future!"

I swallowed and took it back.

"Ready for dinner? I can make your favorite."

I didn't think he knew my favorite anything, but I nodded. He stood up and offered his hand to help me stand up. I grasped it hesitantly, feeling his strong grip lift me to my feet. I forced myself to let go right away. I wasn't going to hold his hand, even if it was nice. I was about to start kindergarten. Hand holding was for babies.

Uncle Ben led me back to the house. He hung my drawing on the fridge while he had me help him make cheese pizza. I got to look at it when we sat down at the kitchen table. I ended up smiling when I looked at it. Maybe it wasn't so bad.

I took a deep breath as I cut off thoughts of him, trying to relax my muscles, relieved that I'd found something happy to think about. I felt my backpack straps digging into my shoulders and, suddenly, remembered that I'd actually kept that drawing in there.

Without hesitating, I sat down on the forest floor and unzipped my bag, digging until I found a sturdy folder that had gotten buried. I rifled through the papers until I got to the last one, a frayed, slightly torn, dull white paper that had been folded to fit.

My fingers opened the worn creases, revealing a dulled sketch of a Starly with a big head, rough lines, and what looked like a broken wing. I brushed my fingers over it lightly, as if any more pressure would make the faded lines recede completely.

The note was the darkest part of it, "Paul's fantastic first drawing. What a bright future!"

If my future is so bright, then why do I feel like this? I wondered.

Without thinking, I pulled out my sketchbook and pencil, letting my hand fly over the surface as I drew. Within minutes, I had a perfect replica of the Starly, with the right proportions, two sturdy wings, and smooth lines. Yet it didn't make me feel any better.

I ripped it out of the book and crumpled it into a disfigured ball, tossing it against the nearest tree. I didn't care if I was littering.

Without another thought, I stood up and make my way back to the Pokemon Center, knowing I was different from the first time I'd truly spent with my uncle, but feeling like I hadn't made any progress in the right direction.

Hey Readers!

That moment you realize that when you wrote a chapter, the title was inspired by Harry Potter because you're obsessed. Actually just a true statement of life type thing... love Paul's last line. Just the whole idea of knowing not all progress is in the right direction is amazing to me. "All growth is change, but not all change is growth". 

Anyway, I haven't been updating as often as I want to, but then again I've been super busy, so bear with me. But life is good! Just been a busy Beedrill. 

I hope you all are doing great and enjoying the story :) 

Pokemon Question of the Day: What most do you want to find out about Paul's past? (Not saying you'll find it out. I have this story completely planned, but I'm curious to know)

Have an awesome day.

-Flips