Blue, Red, and Freddy (part 3)
or, In the Twilight of Arcadia
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (Read this how it was meant to be read here, or on the substack mirror.)
10, The Next Day
The next morning, I didn’t watch my Blue’s Clues or my Little Bear, and I didn’t drink any of my chocolate milk. I tried to play some Pokemon, but I just couldn’t get into it. Susu said she would put up signs, but I told her it didn’t matter. I told her Freddy was gone, that he wasn’t coming back.
Later, Miles’ dad came over. He wasn’t mad or anything, but he wanted to talk to my dad, so I called my dad from Susu’s home line. I told him that Freddy bit Miles, but I didn’t tell him that Freddy was gone for good. I don’t know why I didn’t tell him. I just didn’t feel like it. He said it was okay, the biting thing, but he sounded really disappointed. Then he talked to Miles’ dad on the phone for a while, and afterward, he faxed over some of Freddy’s papers, for rabies or something, and that was the end of it. Neither Miles nor his dad wanted to press charges or anything. I asked Miles’ dad if Miles could come over, but he said that he needed some time or something. I told him I just wanted to see him before I had to go back home, but he repeated that Miles just needed some time, so I told him that I understood, but I didn’t really understand. Then Miles’ dad went home, and it was just Susu and me for the rest of the day.
At some point, I packed up all my stuff, except my Game Boy, in case I wanted to play it. My dad was coming later that night to pick me up and take me back home for the school year. I felt pretty uncertain about the whole thing. It wasn’t like I had any friends here anymore, but I didn’t have any friends back home either, so I was kind of in the same boat either way, no friends anywhere at all. I started thinking some serious doom and gloom. I kept telling myself that nothing really mattered, that we all die eventually, so who cares. I was pretty nihilistic or whatever, even back then. But I couldn’t stop thinking about Freddy, what he was doing out there in the wilds. I kept thinking about how he was going to find food, how the other animals out there might be treating him, and where he was sleeping at night. I imagined him like one of those strays you see sometimes, behind houses and restaurants, all dirty and wet, ribs showing, going through the trash, and that made me real sad. So, to cope, I started telling myself again that nothing matters, but then I thought, if nothing matters, why am I so sad?
So I spent most of the day just lying on the bed in the spare room, starving myself like some sort of repentance for letting him go, but I also wasn't very hungry, on account of being so sad or whatever. Eventually, after like hours of moping, Susu came in and started talking to me.
She opened with, “Why didn’t you tell your dad about Freddy being lost?”
“He’s not lost.” My voice was all shaky.
“What is he, then?”
“He’s gone,” I said, “he doesn't want to come back.”
“Do you really believe that?”
“He wanted to go.”
“He’s a dog, honey.”
I rolled over on the bed, not saying anything.
“He won’t survive out there.”
“Stop,” I said.
“He needs us.”
“STOP,” I shouted, shooting up, “just leave me alone.”
She didn’t say anything more. She just shook her head and left the room, leaving me there all alone for some time until eventually she brought in some tater tots and chicken on one of those paper plates. I barehanded a few tots, but I didn’t eat the chicken. I wasn’t hungry. I couldn’t stop thinking about Freddy. And I also couldn’t stop thinking about Miles, how I probably would never see him. Then, suddenly, I was overwhelmed with the thought that I had to see him at least once more before I left. I had to do something. I had to make him like me again or else I might just be alone forever. This realization was like an electric shock, jolting me out of bed.
The clock read around seven, so it was getting dark soon, which meant my dad would be showing up any minute now. But I didn’t care. I bolted into the living room, grabbed my Game Boy, pocketed it, then rushed to the front door. Maybe I could trade Miles some rare Pokemon or something, maybe that would make him like me again. I didn’t really know what to do, all I knew was that I had to make amends somehow. I also had to find Freddy, because Susu was right, he couldn’t survive out there all alone, just like I couldn’t survive out there, all alone, without him.
When I went to close the front door behind me, I saw Susu standing in the doorway of her room. She was watching me. I think she was smiling, but she was far away so I couldn’t really tell. I waved goodbye to her, and she waved back.
The sky above was like yin and yang. One side gray, with pillow-fort clouds, a soft rumble rolling through them as heat lightning flickered here and there. The crescent moon was up there too, waiting to drop like a guillotine. The opposite side was clear and bright, streaked with orange and blue, and the sun hung low in the humid air. I remember thinking it was like darkness and light duking it out up there. And it was like a million degrees out.
I cut through the verdant alley by Susu’s house, like always, and made my way through the red maple and palm, to the fishing pond. When the back of Miles’ red-brick house came into view, I saw Lauren and Katie Belle sitting on wire chairs on the porch. I awkwardly stepped up the small flight of stairs and sort of waved at them as I passed, then went up to those big double doors and knocked real hard. The girls let me knock a few times, they were giggling a little before they interrupted me.
“He doesn’t want to see you,” Lauren said.
“Oh,” I said, sort of kicking my feet. “I get it.”
“And he’s not here, either,” she added.
“Where is he?” I said.
“I don’t know,” Lauren said coldly, “his parents are gone too.”
Katie Belle was looking me up and down, like she knew something, lit cigarette dangling from her lower lip, smoke twirling past her nose.
Figuring I was too late, I walked down the steps, into the grass, head hanging low, feeling defeated. But then something came over me in that hissing summer lawn. Maybe it was the guilt, or the tranquil pond noises, or maybe it was all that making-amends stuff, I don’t know. But, for some reason, I turned to Lauren and just started pouring my heart out.
“Look, I’m sorry about everything. I’m sorry for all the mean stuff I said to you. I’m sorry I called your favorite Pokemon a dopey green dinosaur with a flower around its neck. I’m sorry I stole your Game Boy Camera that one time. And I’m sorry I jumped on you in the pool the other day. I don’t know why I did all that stuff. I think I’m just jealous. Yeah, that’s it, I’m just jealous. I really am. Look, again, I’m sorry. You don’t have to believe me or nothing, but I am. I really am.” Then I sort of paused for a moment, looking down at the ground. “And I guess I kinda like you, too, or something,” I mumbled. “I don’t know. I’m gonna go now.”
I was feeling a little embarrassed, and I was certainly blushing, so I turned around real quick to leave, but Lauren shouted, “Hey!” so I turned and blinked at her for a moment because she was just sitting there on Miles’ porch, looking down at me with those big, intelligent eyes of hers, and after a short awkward silence, she said just one word.
“Thanks.”
I did this shy little nod and tried to leave again, but this time Katie Belle spoke up.
“He’s at my house,” she said.
I froze, something shifted in my stomach.
“You OK?” she added, blowing smoke.
“Why’s he over there?” I said solemnly.
“I don’t know, guess he doesn’t have anyone else to play with now.”
“Whatever,” I mumbled, then I turned and bolted through the yard, right past the fishing pond, through the red maple and palm, into the verdant alley, where I paused for a moment to catch my breath. I considered going over to Carter’s house, to find Miles, but I was feeling insanely jealous, and that jealousy was turning into anger, and that anger into pure adolescent rage. I shouted, at no one in particular, perhaps the world itself, “I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!”, but I instantly felt bad about it, so I hung my head low, slowly resigning myself, in that verdant alley, to a fate that did not include my best friend, or any friends at all, or even my dog. I was getting all nihilistic again. I was really starting to believe that I was destined for obscurity, and that that was OK because nothing really mattered.
But then I heard something, a yelp, a pained yelp, from a dog, then barking, distressed barking.
My head snapped up, my eyes went wide. I knew that bark. It was Freddy. He was in danger. All my jealousy, self-pity, and rage were gone. It had all melted away. My body surged with newfound energy. I honed in on the sound of the barking, then bolted off in its direction, running fast as hell.
The bark took me past Susu’s house, across the street, into Carter’s empty driveway, where it stopped for a moment, replaced by the whistle of wind and the rustle of leaves from the massive oak overhead, and in that eerie quiet, I looked into the wide-open garage, where I could see some spears missing from the old rack, and one of the rifles near the Blood-Stained Banner was missing too. I felt sick, but only for a moment, because then there was another pathetic yelp, this time from the backyard, so I tore off around the side of the house, past the row of mutilated bugs, then ripped around the corner into Carter’s backyard, and that’s when I saw something that made my heart nearly explode.
“CARTER!” I screamed.
I was furious as hell.
11, Death Row
“LET HIM GO!”
I was snarling like a wild dog in that backyard, which was otherwise oddly silent, not a single summer sound could be heard.
“No,” Carter said, cold as ice, rifle pointed right at me.
He stood there, taking aim, in these green camo pants with no shirt on. I could see greenish-yellow discoloration around his stomach, and he had these long scars across his shoulders. Exposed upon his bare chest was this little golden cross, dangling, its glimmer gone in the shade of the massive oak. And despite it being hot as hell outside, not even one bead of sweat rolled down his bare chest. It was unreal. His brow hung over his sunken eyes, which seemed to me full of tyranny, and when I looked into them, I pictured spikes bursting out of his back and him growing this drill-like tail, which I imagined him impaling me with before eating my flesh and sucking my bones dry. He looked like a right monster, pointing that rifle at me, he really did.
Maybe it was the adrenaline or something, because I wasn’t afraid, but I was feeling betrayed, because Carter wasn’t the only one there, both Miles and Philip were there too, also shirtless, and they were holding these long spears, the same ones from the garage. They looked kind of like the savages you’d see on TV. Miles had thick gauze wrapped around one of his legs, and when he first saw me, he quickly looked away, as if he didn’t want to make eye contact. Philip, on the other hand, looked ecstatic, even with snot oozing from his nostrils. They were both standing next to Carter, on either side of him, just a few feet away from a rusty metal cage.
It was an old kennel, locked with a sliding bolt. Freddy was inside.
His jaw was locked around the metal bars. He was growling, desperately, shaking his head like crazy, rattling the whole cage, trying to tear his way through. Blood trickled down the bars. His once-golden fur now matted brown, caked with dirt and mud, and he was all wet. He looked hurt and helpless. I had never seen him like this before. I couldn’t stand it. I was furious as hell.
Maybe that’s why I wasn’t afraid.
“LET HIM GO, CARTER.”
“What are you going to do, tell your grandma?” Carter’s lips curled into a devious smile as he turned the rifle back on Freddy.
“Don't worry, Freddy,” I said, stepping closer to the cage.
When Freddy heard his name, it was as if he snapped out of a violent trance because his jaw released and he turned to me with these big, pitiful eyes. Then he pointed his scuffed-up nose at the moon, which looked like a guillotine being lifted, not yet ready to fall, in the still-bright sky, and he howled. He howled a painful howl. It was like nothing I had ever heard before.
I stepped closer to the cage. “It’s gonna be OK, buddy.” I nearly had my hand through the bars when I heard Carter pump the rifle and shout with more emotion than I had ever heard from him before. “STEP AWAY FROM THE CAGE, WEAKLING.” He sounded like a full-grown man for a second, he really did.
So I stepped away from the cage and put my hands up because I had seen MacGyver do that on TV. I was dissociating, feeling like a different person, a TV person, I really was. Then I said, “Relax, I’m unarmed, I was just checking out the craftsmanship of the cage, is all,” because it sounded all cheeky, like something MacGyver would say, but Carter didn’t find it funny. He just pointed the rifle at Freddy and said, “This isn’t a joke. Your dog’s a menace.”
I noticed Philip was grinning ear to ear, muttering, “do it, do it,” over and over like he was some sort of mad monk. And Miles, well, he was looking at Carter with these wide eyes, a weird expression on his face.
So I said to Miles, “Why? Why are you doing this?”
Carter responded for him. “He don't have to tell you why. You know why.” He took one step closer to the kennel, rifle lifted up to his face, one eye closed like he was an expert marksman or something. “Your dog needs to be put down, he's violent.”
“You're the one with a rifle,” I snapped back.
“That damn dog tried to kill me,” he said. “I'm just defending myself.” Then he grinned as if he had just come up with some brilliant insight. “Actually, I'm defending the whole neighborhood from a violent beast.”
“Yeah, you're a real hero, killing a dog.”
“Do it, do it,” Philip mumbled.
“You saw it, you saw him try to kill me,” Carter said, looking down the barrel.
“I saw you throw a Game Boy at him,” I said, channeling MacGyver, trying to coolly reason with him.
Carter scoffed, shifting his aim back and forth between me and Freddy. “He hurt Miles too,” he said, his eyes flashing. “Didn’t he, Miles?”
Miles started stuttering, “He, he bit me, on the leg.”
“You stepped on his tail!” I shouted, cool fading, face all scrunchy and mad. “It was an accident! And you know it was an accident!”
Miles was looking at his feet, shaking his head. “No, no, it wasn’t, it wasn’t.”
“Yes it was! And you know it!” I shouted. “That’s why I don’t understand why you’re doing this!”
Miles kept shaking his head. It was really starting to piss me off.
“Tell me!” I stomped. “Tell me why you’re doing it!”
Carter tried to chime in, “He doesn’t have to tell you,” but was cut off by Miles, who was now looking straight at me, eyes wide and vulnerable.
“I’ll tell you why,” he said, lifting his spear with one hand and pointing it at me.
There was sudden chill, a breeze, the oak whistled.
“It’s because,” Miles lowered his voice, “it’s because you left me.”
“What? What do you,” I started, but the words didn’t come together.
His eyes were shaking, then he lowered his spear, then his gaze, then something sparkled to the ground, like a small crystal.
“You, you left me at the pond,” he mumbled.
“But your dad, your dad was,” I stopped because when he looked up at me, tears were streaming down his face.
Then his sadness shifted to anger, and his spear was up again, pointing right at me. “You like that dog more than me!” he shouted. “And I’ll never forgive you for that!”
I had never seen him cry before. I didn’t understand it. It actually scared me more than Carter ever did. It scared the hell out of me. So I stepped back, stunned, eyes stuck to the dirt, trying to think of some excuse, some justification for why I ran away, some good reason why I left him there at the pond bleeding out, something that he would accept. But I couldn’t think of anything. I couldn’t think of one damn thing. I could hear Freddy whimpering behind me, and Philip chanting, “do it, do it, do it.” But I just kept replaying the moment in my mind, that moment at the pond, the moment I ran away. I kept replaying it, trying to figure out if I had done the right thing, but I couldn’t figure it out. I just couldn’t figure it out. Then, like some sort of contagion, I started tearing up too, so I closed my eyes real hard, and then, all of a sudden, like a truck or something, it hit me.
“See?” Carter said, aiming the rifle at me. “Everyone hates you,” he smirked, “and they hate your dog too.”
Philip shouted, “Yeah, and you snitched on me!”
But it was all just background noise now. I looked up at Miles, his spear limply pointed at me, and then I said two words.
I said, “I’m sorry.”
It was the first time I had ever said those words to him.
He didn’t say anything in response. He was just staring at me, blinking tears.
So I held out my hand to him, gesturing at the spear, and said, “C’mon, let’s go.”
“He’s not sorry,” Carter cut in.
“Am too,” I said firmly. “I am sorry, I really am.”
“He’s just sorry that we’re about to kill his dog,” Carter said, shifting his eyes between me and Miles. “That’s all he cares about. That dog. He cares about that dog more than you.”
Miles was glancing back and forth between Carter and me. There was uncertainty in his big, trembly eyes.
“Don’t listen to him,” I said.
“Spear the dog, Miles,” Carter said in this low, hypnotic voice. “Spear him good.”
“Do it, do it, do it,” Philip was repeating.
Miles took one step toward the kennel. His spear was limp and trembling. He was seemingly unable to look at Freddy because his eyes were locked on the ground, but Freddy was looking right at him, not afraid at all for some reason.
“Miles,” I said, my tone so fake-confident it was actually confident, “Carter is just mad that I beat him in Pokemon. That’s it. He’s a sore loser. Don’t do what he says.”
Miles shook his head, slowly trying to lift his spear.
Then, after a few weirdly quiet seconds, as if he had been stewing on my words, Carter spoke up. “Mad?” he said. “That you beat me?” he chuckled. “In Pokemon?” His voice sounded strange, different, like the ice was shattering or something.
I gulped but narrowed my eyes at him. “That’s, that’s what I said.”
“It’s not about that at all,” he said sharply. “It’s about weakness. That’s what it’s about. It’s about how this world is full of weaklings like you and your stupid dog and how strong people like me rule over the weak.” He readjusted his aim, nearly speaking into the rifle. “It’s about how the weak should obey the strong.” He was starting to sound older. “And how, when they don’t, they should be put in their place, taught a lesson, punished.” He paused and licked his lips. “Do you understand what I’m saying to you, boy?” His eyes shifted faster than a reptile. “You’re a weakling, that’s all you are,” he grinned. “You wouldn’t survive a day out there, kid.” His voice took on a totally new sound, like he was channeling a full-grown man who smoked twelve packs a day. “Think you could survive out there in the trenches, eating old corned beef and drinking slop from a thermos, bombs going off all around you, vomiting blood, watching your friends get maimed and decapitated and blown to bits?” Something was glimmering in his eyes. “And getting used to it! That’s the worst part, getting used to it!” His eyes shut hard for a moment, and when they opened the glimmer was gone, replaced by a sort of sorrowful madness. “Never knowing when some gook is going to pop out from the trees, or the bushes, or the goddamn soil!” His rifle was shaking. “They’re in the goddamn soil, Carter, that’s what we used to say. Not just the enemy, but friends too, in the soil. And they were right, Carter, they were right, ghosts and bones, all around us. I don’t wanna drink, but what else can I do, they’re everywhere, Carter! They’re all over the goddamn place, they’re even in the soil! I don’t want to do this, but I have no choice.” He paused, trying to steady his aim, “Don’t you understand, boy?” And when he didn’t get a response, he shouted, “DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND?”
I was wide-eyed and freaked the hell out, having no idea what he was talking about. I stepped back, closer to the kennel. All my fake confidence and MacGyver posturing, gone. I wanted to turn and run, but something compelled me, kept me glued to this new version of Carter. I could hear Freddy, whimpering, filling me with dread. I suddenly felt like Carter was about to do something really crazy, like this wasn’t just kids messing around anymore. This was for real. Suddenly, I felt like I had to do something. I had to stop Carter. But I didn’t know what to do. I dug into my pockets, hoping to find a miracle, something I could maybe throw at him, but there was only my Game Boy Color. I gulped. I didn’t want to break my Game Boy. I really didn’t. So instead, I looked at Miles, hoping he would do something, but he was just standing there, too, staring at Carter, and I could tell from the expression on his face that he was just as freaked out and confused as I was.
Carter adjusted his rifle one last time, then looked down the iron at Freddy, who was whining helplessly, and then he said, “They're in the goddamn soil, Carter.”
I watched his finger inch around the trigger. I felt helpless and weak. I couldn’t focus. My mind was going a thousand thoughts per minute, and one of those thoughts was Freddy, lying in a pool of blood, and this caused me to step forward and scream the loudest NOOOOOOOOOOOO I had ever screamed in my entire life, then I slid the Game Boy Color out of my pocket and chucked it right at Carter’s face as hard as I could.
There was a loud, smoky bang, followed by a sharp, pained howl. Carter fell backward into the grass, the antique rifle spinning as it hit the ground, barrel trailing smoke. Philip bolted, his high-pitched shrieks echoing off the houses as he ran down Mossy Oak Way.
For a moment I just stood there, stunned, staring down at Carter. Then my senses kicked in, and I hurried to the kennel. Freddy was there, eyes wide and ears back, looking shaken but otherwise unharmed. I sighed relief. Then I knelt by the cage, hands trembling as I fumbled with the bolt, and that’s when I heard Miles mumbling nearby.
“He, he told me it wasn’t loaded,” his voice was cracking up. “He told me, he told me it would just be a funny joke.” There was a soft thud as his spear fell to the ground.
My hands were shaky, so I was having the hardest time with the bolt, and it didn’t help that Freddy was licking me through the bars. I couldn’t for the life of me get the gate unlatched. Then I heard something behind me, something that twisted my stomach into a terrible knot. It was a deep roar, as if from a wild animal, so I turned around and that’s when I saw Carter trampling toward me on all fours, blood spiraling out of his nose, dirt kicking up in his wake.
He leapt off his back legs, arms up like some sort of mountain lion mid-pounce. I tried to dive away, but he caught me before I could move. We tumbled a few feet, then, our arms twisted together, we both wrestled violently for control. I was trying my best to push away, but he was clawing into my arms and chest and face and quickly got the better of me, then he had one hand around my throat, straddling me, pinning me to the ground, looking down on me with these wild eyes, blood dripping from his twisted nose, drooling all over my face like some sort of rabid dog. “YOU MADE ME DO THIS, CARTER,” he shouted. Then he lifted his free hand high above his head as if to pound my face in, and that’s when a golden blur zoomed by, and all of a sudden, just like that, the whole thing was over.
I rolled over on my left side, where I saw Freddy pinning Carter down with his big, golden paws, snarling, canines real close to his face, dripping saliva, looking ready to tear the kid apart. But he wasn’t. He was holding back. I mumbled, “Good boy,” then I rolled over on my right side and saw Miles, kneeling by the kennel, gate wide open. He gave me a solemn nod then a little thumbs up. I nodded back.
Then I rolled onto my back, my mind so overwhelmed it was blank. Freddy’s snarling was the only sound I could hear. My chest heaved up and down, and my eyes stayed wide open, staring up at the sky through the shady oak canopy. There was no more gray up there, just smears of light blue, pink, and orange, like the sun was reflecting off the horizon, and the horizon was an old kaleidoscope or something. It was beautiful, but there was also something a little sad about it, too. Then, all of a sudden, cicadas started buzzing, drowning out the snarling, then more cicadas, then crickets chirping, then even more crickets, and then frogs croaking, a whole chorus of frogs. The backyard had suddenly become a full summer orchestra, as if life was returning to this once-dead place.
As I pushed off the ground to prop myself up, my hand landed on something hard and plasticky. I picked it up and stared at it. It was my Game Boy Color, but the screen was shattered outward from a dime-sized hole in the middle, bits of melted plastic all over it, and all the buttons popped out. It was fried, still hot to the touch. I slid out the Pokemon Crystal cartridge, and it too had a hole through the middle, right through Suicune’s face. I started laughing, at first just a little, but it grew louder and louder, and then I could hear Miles laughing behind me too, and then I had to wipe my eyes with the collar of my shirt because they were getting all watery.
When I got to my feet, I turned to Freddy, who was still pinning Carter down. Carter had this terrified look on his face, but he wasn’t trying to escape or anything. He seemed paralyzed there, accepting of his fate, almost. And as I stared down at him, I started feeling sorry for the guy. I really did. I even considered offering him a hand, if you can believe that, but decided against it, because I didn't want him to break my wrist or something.
So, instead, I just said, “C’mon, Freddy, let’s go.”
But Freddy only turned his head slightly, giving me a very narrow side-eye. He was still snarling, and his canines were still showing, and his tail stuck straight up like a wooden stake.
“C’mon, buddy, let’s go home.”
But he just kept snarling.
“C’mon, buddy.”
Carter’s eyes were big and trembly as he stared up into the void that was Freddy’s open mouth, warm saliva dripping onto his face.
“Freddy, let’s go,” I said firmly, my voice deeper, more mature.
The snarling faded. Freddy turned his head again, but this time his floppy ears were pulled back, which scrunched his brow and made him look like he was deep in thought. He stayed like this for a moment before stepping off Carter, then slowly came to my side, where I gave him a scratch behind the ear. He opened his mouth, panting, which happened to look like a big goofy smile.
“You thirsty, buddy?” I said. “Let’s go home.”
Before walking away, Miles and I exchanged a brief glance. I thought about thanking him or apologizing again, but in that moment, words seemed unnecessary, as if they could only do harm, so I just nodded, and he nodded back.
Then we left that backyard, never looking back.
12, Twilight
Stepping from the shade of death row, the sky had become a darker blue, and the pink and orange had merged into one, making the sky appear as if it were on fire. It took my breath away, it really did. And at that moment, despite everything that had happened, I didn’t want the day to end. Most of all, I didn’t want summer to end, but I could see the ending right there, across the street, in the form of my dad’s blue compact, parked right there in Susu’s driveway.
“Let’s go fishing,” I said.
“But isn’t that your dad’s car?” Miles said.
“Yeah, so what?”
“Well, aren’t you supposed to be going home now?”
“I don’t want to go home, Miles.”
Freddy was sitting there watching the sky, looking all dirty and wild.
After a brief silence, Miles said, “Wait, you’re calling me Miles now?”
I looked at him with a faint smile and said, “That’s your name, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, sure, but you’re always gonna be Blue to me,” he said, laughing.
Then, all of a sudden, I took off down Carter’s steep driveway, across the street, past my dad’s compact, weaving between red maple and palm, into the verdant alley, pondward bound. Along the way, I pushed low-hanging branches away from my face, leapt over stray logs, and tried not to trample patches of flowers. Freddy was a golden blur beside me, and Miles, though he got a late start, was easily keeping up because he was in much better shape than I was.
All our running must have disturbed the crows, because just as we arrived at the pond, a murder of them took off from a nearby hedge, soaring right over the water and vanishing into the deep blue sky, its fiery horizon rippling off the surface as a fish leapt out of the water and plopped back in. The crickets, cicadas, and frogs were already in the middle of their summer songs, and all three of us stood there by the edge of the water, awestruck by the majesty of it all.
After some time, I turned to Miles and said, “It sure is pretty out here.”
And he said, “Yeah.”
Then I said, “What do you call this time of day, anyway?”
“I dunno, I think I heard my dad call it twilight once.”
“Twilight,” I repeated to myself.
Then, suddenly, out of nowhere, Freddy barked and, in one graceful motion, jumped and bellyflopped into the pond with a huge splash. Miles and I started laughing our heads off. Then, after Freddy dog-paddled back to the edge, he climbed out and sauntered right back up to us, golden and renewed, and despite our “no no no, don’t do it,” he did the wet-dog shake, getting us all wet, which just made us laugh even harder.
And we laughed for a long time.
But when the laughter stopped, and there were no words left, I found myself staring into summer’s end, off the fiery blue, so I sat down at the edge, to take it all in, and that’s when Miles and Freddy sat down too, right next to me, and then we all just sat there, for the longest time, in the twilight of Arcadia, not saying a word, just taking it all in.