Blue, Red, and Freddy
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.)
“Strong POKEMON. Weak POKEMON. That is only the selfish perception of people.” —Karen of the Elite Four
1, The Pool
It was like a million degrees out, the world was glowing, and everything looked all wavy in the golden distance. Summer shimmered off the crystal waters of the swimming pool, full of children's urine and chlorine. The clouds above looked like big Jumpluff just drifting along, and the clubhouse cast a long shadow, towering over the poolside like some sort of divine structure, its white exterior dotted with all sorts of nautical imagery, which matched the poolside, itself about two tennis courts wide and paved with cement tiles carved with little Magikarp and Shellder designs. A wooden awning shaded a row of picnic tables littered with coolers and juice boxes and radios and towels and pool toys of all sorts, and the parents who enjoyed the shade watched as their children shot each other with Super Soakers and whacked one another with pool noodles. My parents were hundreds of miles away. There was a kiddie pool off in the corner packed with babies, all buoyantly unaware on account of their gigantic floaties. Red maples swayed green overhead in the sweltering breeze. A lifeguard whistled and shouted as kids ran wild. The felty pops of tennis balls could be heard nearby, alongside the faint melody of an ice cream truck several blocks away, and the giggles of children swinging on a nearby swing set, and the taunting of teenagers playing basketball just beyond that. Palm trees towered overhead, their crazy shadows like Exeggutor on the poolside. And all of this was surrounded by a black metal fence that kids could slip right through, and just about anyone could climb over, with two flimsy gates erected on either side, their latches long broken from years of slamming. And just beyond that, less than a sprint away, was a tranquil fishing pond, and around that were the backsides of houses, one of which was my grandma Susu’s, another was my friend Miles’, constructed of red brick, with these big double doors that opened onto a wooden patio, which you could see from the pool itself, only partially obstructed by all the red maple and palm.
