"The Final Squirtle"

#PokemonGO: "Had you asked me when I was young, I wouldn't have believed it" the old man said kindly, the crow's feet around his eyes pronounced from years of squinting to the horizon, his hand absently grasping for a red-and white ball he could no longer grasp."The idea that we would ever see the last is, on its own, absurd ... but a squirtle?"I asked him why and he began a detailed summary of Chelonia familiaris barnesi, and how its preference for a moist environment had made it a prime candidate for early extinction; he also cited the creature's disturbing pre-disposition for negative-socialization (in gangs, wearing sunglasses)."I never would have thought they'd last" he said, looking at the empty-hand which still silently searched for the missing ball.We spoke at length about what it meant, the last wild monster, and how we had arrived here. There had been so many at first; there was no evidence that they even aged; they had no real predators..."Candy Farmers" he said, almost as an aside, despite the fixated edge in his voice.We went on talking for the rest of the day until well after sundown until his nephew, a responsible blonde kid in a red and white cap, came into the study and deposited a single pokeball onto the desk. Silently, the boy left, and a moment after him, an unidentified heaviness followed.The old man and I had been holding our breath until I asked."This?" he said, picking up the ball in a way that revealed its fullness, primarily in the way his old arms grappled with the weight of an occupied ball. "What else""Is that the..." I asked, aghast but also intrigued"Yes," he said, "This is her. The last squirtle; Jeffy caught her this afternoon and has been making his way home, past those GreenPoke fanatics, all day"My jaw dropped. "So ... what are you going to do with it?""Only one thing to do. I've been sitting on 96 squirtle candy for years now, and the catch brings me up to 99. I never got a Blastoise, you know"I shivered ... surely he couldn't mean it. We sat in silence as he placed the ball on the transfer assembly. We had all seen through "Professor" Willow's ruse years ago - we knew what the candy was made of. This man, the first trainer I had ever met, couldn't seriously be considering this. His finger hovered over the transfer button."I really have no choice" he said. He pressed the button, with calm determination, and after a brief fizzle, a single, small blue and cream sphere appeared on his transfer.He picked it up and tossed it into a drawar with dozens of other identical candies."Aren't you gong to feed your wartortle?" I finally asked, almost a scream"Eventually," he said, "there's no rush. Truth be told, this isn't even about the blastoise"I felt anger rising in my throat"Truth be told, I did this for Jeffy, and all the kids. If there's anything worse than slaving away as a trainer, grinding endlessly, its the excruciating knowledge of a game you cannot ever play."He rose and came to me, patting me on the shoulder."Its over now" he almost whispered, collapsing on the floor.I couldn't get past the anger and call for help, so I just sat there, thinking about how I'd use all the old man's candy. via /r/TheSilphRoad http://ift.tt/2iU57jP