If Music Be the Food of Love, Play On

Brock Stone sat on the outcropping of rock that faced the sea pensively thinking, a rare moment for him if he wasn’t daydreaming about the hottest girl he laid eyes on. The ship he was taking back to Pallet Town, Kanto from Professor Ivy’s lab took him only as far as Shamouti Island, and his connecting ship wasn’t going to leave for several hours. He hadn’t bothered to mix with the locals very much; after all, what did a few hours’ time mean to them?

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?” a voice came from behind him. Brock shifted on the rock he was sitting on and turned to face a slight girl of twelve, her long brown hair covered by an orange cap. She was dressed in an outfit made of Mareep fleece, with red and blue patterns along the sleeves. A light brown corduroy bag was slung across her shoulder, and now her foot was tapping the rock. “Well?” she asked impatiently.

“Oh sure,” Brock replied, scooting over to make room for his new companion. Like Misty, she didn’t seem like one to cross. She sat down, her bare feet dangling over the waves of the ocean, and took off her bag, rummaging through it with a purpose.

“So…uh…what are you doing here?” Brock asked finally, trying to lightly break the ice.

“Ocarina practice, I love this instrument,” the girl explained, pulling out the object in question. It was large enough to fit in the palm of someone’s hand, and even though Brock knew it was probably passed down through many generations, it had an aura of agelessness about it.

“May I…” he started.

“Sure, just let me play my song when you’re done,” the girl said with a hint of laughter in her voice, passing it over to Brock. He held it for a long time, studying every inch of the beautiful instrument, carved out of flawless white shell.

“Amazing…I wish my family had something like this…although my brothers and sisters would probably be fighting over it. I’m Brock Stone, by the way.”

“Melody…Melody Rose,” the girl said softly, her gaze back on the sea and not focused on Brock; she had momentarily forgotten why she was there. “You have a big family?” she asked finally, her eyes on him again.

“Yeah, and to make it worse, I raised them all. My dad walked out on the family when I was eleven after my mom died, so I had to grow up a bit fast. Once I got old enough, I had to balance running the Pewter City gym and raising the kids at the same time. Let me tell you, I wanted to get out of the house after awhile, and my chance came about a year ago when Dad came back. I joined Ash and Misty on their journey-”

“Oh, so you know them?” Melody asked curiously, staring at him with interest. “They came here awhile back, but they were with a different guy that time…”

“That would be Tracey Sketchit, Pokemon watcher,” Brock answered promptly. “I’m returning to Kanto in a few hours to join Ash and Misty again while Tracey goes to work for Professor Oak.”

“Oh…that’s nice. We know of the mainland regions, of course, but most of us don’t feel the need to start our Pokemon journeys there. I know I wouldn’t, I’d just be bitter about it.” Melody drew her knees to her chest, watching the ocean forcefully slap against the rocks.

“Why do you say that?” Brock asked curiously, gazing at her suddenly rigid shoulders. “You’ve never even been there.” Melody turned, her turquoise eyes hurt; Brock immediately wished he’d never even said that.

“Because… Well, I guess I’d better start from the beginning. For as long as I can remember, my older sister Karol has always brought me up, with the exception of our dad, but he’s elderly now and left my upbringing to Karol, who’s twenty-five. When I was little, she would tell me bedtime stories about her idol, the festival maiden before her. She was a gifted dancer, this girl, and came from the Orange Islands herself, but it took her time to learn to play this ocarina. Karol loved it when she danced at the annual Festival of the Island Elements, and always looked forward to it because she was steeped in tradition. One day the girl disappeared out of the blue, and Karol stepped up in her place. No one really knew why she left, but Karol says she ran off with a mainlander from Johto. No one talks about her anymore, and Dad gets upset if anyone brings it up. That girl…she was the oldest of three sisters…my oldest sister, Lydia Rose.”

“Oh…how old was she when she left?” Brock asked after Melody had told her story, reminded of the day when his father had left.

“Sixteen, but I don’t even remember her, I was born after she had left already. I’ve heard stories, though, and she seemed like a caring person. To be honest, she doesn’t even really feel like a sister because I’ve grown up with Karol. I don’t know who she is, much less where she is.”

Silence fell between the two, and Brock found himself dwelling on the mother he’d lost, a mother he only had faded memories of, and even those were deteriorating slowly in his mind. “I know how you must feel, Melody, sorry for bringing it up.”

“It’s okay, I had to talk to somebody about it, and you’re a perfect stranger; you don’t even know who she is,” Melody replied, cracking a true grin for the first time since they’d met. “Hey, do you mind staying awhile so you can hear me practice? You totally made me forget why I was here.”

“Not at all,” Brock smiled in return, lying down on the rock with his hands behind his head as he let the music of the ocarina wash over him. Melody’s song reminded him of the wind and ocean, so peaceful it made him sleepy. “You’re really talented, you know, I could never play as well as you.”

Melody could feel herself coloring. “Aw, don’t mention it, it takes lots of practice. Besides you must be interested in Pokemon training more than a simple instrument,” she said, replacing it in her bag. Standing up once more, she shaded her eyes and looked in the direction of the pier, where the cruise ship bound for Kanto had just come in; a glance to the horizon told her it was sunset. “Hey, sleepyhead, your ride’s here,” she said grinningly, nudging him with her foot.

Brock got up, brushing himself off and giving Melody an identical smile. “Thanks for warning me, I’d better go. Are you going home as well? I could walk you home if you wouldn’t mind…” Would she accept? Would one girl, finally, not turn him down? That remained to be seen. Maybe, just maybe…

“Oh no thanks, Karol doesn’t really care about what I do,” Melody replied.

“Well then…” Brock started in the rejected tone he heard himself use too often. He would’ve loved some company before setting out on his own again, with only his Pokemon as companions. He paused as Melody spoke up once more.

“…But I’d be glad to escort you to the pier,” she added, catching up so she could walk beside him. She didn’t grasp hold of his arm, but she didn’t walk with a large gap of space between them either. Now it was Brock’s turn to color, and Melody took note of it.

“You’re blushing,” she pointed out bluntly as the pair stepped onto the pier dock.

“It’s just a habit,” Brock said, scratching his spiky hair uneasily. “I tend to do that around girls.”

“Ah, so you’re into older women, eh? My sister isn’t like that; she’s shy as anything. At least you’re brave enough to admit it.”

“You could say that, Nurse Joy and Officer Jenny are pretty cute, but I know they’d never go out with me…” Brock faltered, hanging his head.

Melody was tempted to put a hand on his shoulder, but she didn’t. “You know, no boy ever went out with me, and nobody ever really loved me for who I am. Karol and Dad do, of course, but there’s something to be treasured when it’s someone outside the family.”

“I know what you mean, but I don’t think I’ll ever find this ‘treasure’ you speak of, Melody.”

This time Melody lightly placed a hand on his arm and Brock was taken aback. Her pale hands were cool, unlike the warmth of most girls’ hands, and oddly enough he didn’t want her to draw her comforting touch away. “Come on, Brock, don’t lose heart. There’s someone out there for you, just like there’s someone out there for me. You know…you helped me ease my loneliness today. Thank you,” she said softly, her eyes on the pier dock they were treading on.

“You really helped me too, Melody, thanks,” Brock replied softly, shifting his backpack to other. “Would you…”

“Yeah?”

“Could you hold my hand one more time?” he asked hesitantly. Melody grinned back, brushing a wisp of brown hair out of her eyes.

“Sure,” she answered, trying to fight the uneasiness creeping through her stomach. She gave the hand he offered a hearty squeeze, her smile widening. “Will that help you on your journey back?”

“Definitely,” Brock grinned, squeezing Melody’s hand in return. “It was nice to meet you, Melody.” With a final nod exchanged between them, Brock set off toward the gangway, proud to have made a new friend and relieved to be returning home, where he belonged.

***

Melody watched the ship pull away from the pier, then walked up to the beach back to the rocks where she and Brock had been chatting so easily hours before. She knew she should be going back home, that Karol would be looking for her, maybe even be in the mood for a lecture, but her words would fall on deaf ears tonight. She wanted to linger here, and there was nothing in the vicinity to stop her.

She rounded the bend in the path that curved around the single moss-covered cliff, a cliff that shielded Shamouti Island from the sea. She was back at the rocks, but now Melody was completely alone. Dusk was just beginning, showering an array of pinks, purples, and blues on the sky above. She sat down once more and waited for the moon to rise.

The wind began to pick up again, lightly playing with the palm trees that basked in the elements. Melody drew her knees to her chest, pulling her fleece shawl tighter across her shoulders and gazing out at the water. It was nice out now, but soon the seas would grow rough. Was Brock all right? Was he thinking of her?

Almost impulsively, Melody’s slender hands groped into the bag at her side until her fingers touched the white shell that was the ocarina. She took it out, taking the entire instrument into her mind. Sometimes we find love in the strangest places, she reflected with a small smile as she brought the flute to her lips. She was going to play her best tonight, an ocean song laced with the emotion of wind and water.

And somewhere, within the ship speeding ever quickly toward Pallet Town, Brock Stone heard it ringing in his ears