by Alex Polan
There was Sam’s spiky orange hair and freckled face. He was searching the bushes for Meowth. And wherever Sam was, his older sister, Stella, wasn’t far behind.
Like Fennekin, their fox-like team mascot, Sam and Stella seemed sneaky—even downright mean. On the first day of camp, Sam had put a cricket in Maddy’s lemonade and made her cry. She wasn’t upset because her drink was ruined. She was worried the cricket would drown.
And now that he knew he could make her cry, Sam had been teasing her ever since.
“Who’s there?” asked Maddy loudly, stepping onto the deck.
“Shh!” Marco heard Logan whisper.
Too late. Sam caught sight of Maddy.
“Well, if it isn’t Maddy Waddy and Team Treecko,” he said in a snide voice. “Or should I say Team Tickle-Tickle-Tickle. Wook at da widdle baby on da deck.”
Stella stepped up behind him and glanced upward. She was tall and wore her hair in a sharp bob with magenta streaks. She can’t be only ten, thought Marco. She looked like a teenager.
Sam, on the other hand, was small for his age. But he sure had a big mouth.
“Tickle, Tickle, Tickle,” he said again. “Cootchie-coo. Oh, is da widdle baby going to cry?”
Marco swung his head around to look at Maddy. Her cheeks were blotchy and her hands were clenched into fists.
He had to do something—quick. But before he could think of anything, Sam jumped back. “Ouch!” he cried, rubbing his head.
“What happened?” asked Stella. “What are you blubbering about?”
Sam looked up nervously. “I don’t know,” he said. “I think someone threw something at me.”
Stella narrowed her eyes and glanced up through the branches. Does she see me? wondered Marco, holding his breath. It looked like she was staring right through him with her chilly gaze.
After a few seconds, she smirked and said, “Looks like you got beat up by da widdle baby, Sammy.” She laughed sharply and walked away, leaving Sam behind. He stared up for another few seconds, and then he turned and raced after his sister.
When the coast was clear, Marco got to his knees. “What happened?” he asked Logan.
Logan grinned and held out his fists. “Walnuts,” he said proudly. “Walnuts happened.” He uncurled his fingers to reveal two bumpy green pods.
“Walnuts?” asked Marco, reaching out to take one of the green balls. “I wish I’d thought of that.”
He smiled as he followed Logan back into the tree house. Team Treecko had already scored one for the day. And capture the flag hadn’t even begun.
CHAPTER THREE
“I’m not a little baby,” said Maddy, still fighting back tears. “I’m seven—and a half.”
“I know,” said Nisha. “Don’t worry about what Sam says. Just ignore him.”
Logan looked like he was chewing on a thought—something he wasn’t sure he should say out loud. “You may not be a little kid,” he finally blurted, “but you do have a Dedenne like Bonnie has.”
“A what?” asked Marco.
“A Dedenne—the Pokémon that Clemont’s little sister, Bonnie, takes care of,” Logan explained.
“It’s a Fairy-type,” Nisha said to Maddy. “Well, part Electric and part Fairy. You’d like him.” Nisha knew all the Pokémon types. Marco wondered if she had the whole Pokédex memorized.
Maddy perked up. “That’s a good name. I’ll call my mouse Dedenne.” Then she shot Logan one of her adoring glances. “Thanks, Logan,” she said. “You always make me feel better.”
Logan gave an exasperated sigh. As he pushed past Marco, he muttered, “I think I’ll go throw up.”
“What?” asked Maddy.
Logan stopped in his tracks. “I said … um …” He looked at Marco for help.
“He said, um, that he thinks he’ll go blow up … a few more water balloons,” said Marco.
Maddy cocked her head like she didn’t quite believe him. But then a loud thweet cut through the air.
“That’s Professor’s Birch’s whistle!” said Nisha, re-tucking her T-shirt into her shorts. “We have to get back to camp. It’s time to start the game.”
Team Treecko carefully climbed down the tree house ladder and hurried back along the path. When they reached the edge of the woods, most of the other teams were already there.
Team Torchic sat on the ground, bright as sunshine in their yellow tees. Marco recognized the Pokémon on their shirts right away—it looked like a baby chick. Team Mudkip wore blue tees, the color of their fish-like mascot. And Team Froakie, wearing aqua, hopped in like a bunch of long-legged frogs.
“Which team is that again?” asked Marco, nudging Logan. He pointed to the kids wearing chestnut-brown tees.
Nisha answered first. “That’s Team Chespin,” she said. “Chespin is that little spiny-nut Pokémon.”
Marco nodded like he understood, but he didn’t really. How could a Pokémon be both an animal and a nut? Then he realized that one of the teams was missing. Where was Team Fennekin?
They’re sneaking around here somewhere, thought Marco. Probably in a fox den under the ground.
There! Stella and Sam, in their orange T-shirts, were whispering with two other teammates on the far side of the lawn. One was a small brunette girl with pointed features. The fourth member of Team Fennekin was impossible to miss. He was meaty and tall, towering over all the other kids.
When Stella caught Marco staring, she glared at him. He looked away quickly.
Just then, Logan started chuckling. “Look,” he said, pointing. “It really is Professor Birch.”
The head counselor stood in the center of the crowd, flipping through papers on his clipboard. All of the camp counselors were named after Pokémon characters. But Professor Birch was the only one who actually looked the part.
His brown hair was messy, and he had shaved his beard into a goatee that framed his chin. He wore khaki shorts and outdoorsy sandals. And, like the true Professor Birch, he was kind of chubby. It was like he’d stepped straight out of the video game and into Camp Pikachu.
When Professor Birch blew his whistle again, all the campers stood to attention. Then a counselor they called Officer Jenny stepped out of the crowd to explain the rules. She didn’t have bluish-green hair like one of the real Officer Jennies. But she wore a blue vest over a white T-shirt. And with her police officer cap, she looked pretty strict.
“It’s time for battle, Trainers!” she said. “Are you ready for capture the flag?”
Some of the kids cheered. Others shifted their feet nervously.
“In a few minutes, you’ll head back to your secret bases,” said Officer Jenny. “You’ll hang your flags outside, and then wait for Professor Birch’s whistle. That will signal the start of the game. Two of you will head out into the field to try to capture flags. The other two team members will stay back at the secret base to protect your own flag.”
Marco and Logan glanced quickly at each other.
We never figured out who would stay and who would go, thought Marco. He was pretty sure Logan would want to capture flags. But what do I want to do?
He pictured himself sneaking through the bushes about to grab the Team Fennekin flag. As he reached for the flame-colored cloth, he felt himself suddenly surrounded. Stella towered over him, her eyes narrowed to slits. Sam blocked Marco from behind—seeking revenge for the walnut incident. They raised their arms at the same time, and then, Splat! Splat! Splat! Splat!
Marco imagined water balloons pelting him from all directions. Then he saw himself running back to his secret base like a dog with his tail between his legs. Soaking wet. Empty-handed. A big wet loser.
I should probably stay behind, he thought sadly. I’m just going to let everyone down.
But after the counselors explained the rules, Nisha had an idea. “We should play Rock, Fire, Grass,” she said. “That’s the only fair way to decide who stays at the base and who captures flags.”
Logan agreed. “Marco and I will go first,” he sa
id. He planted his right fist on his left palm. “Let’s go, buddy.”
Marco reluctantly held out his own hands. Rock, Fire, Grass was like Rock, Paper, Scissors. Team Treecko had made up the game yesterday using Pokémon types. “Rock” was already a type of Pokémon, but “Paper” and “Scissors” weren’t, so they’d plugged in “Fire” and “Grass” instead.
Marco tapped his fist against his hand as he and Logan counted, “One, two …” On “three,” he flattened his right hand on top of his left. That was the sign for Grass.
Logan kept his hand in a fist, the sign for Rock. When he saw Marco’s hands, he sighed. “Grass covers Rock. You win. You get to capture flags.” His face fell.
Marco didn’t feel like much of a winner. But how could he tell Logan that he would rather stay behind at the secret base?
“I don’t get it,” said Maddy. “Why does Grass win again?”
“The Grass-type Pokémon are strong against Rock-type,” Nisha patiently explained. “Just remember this: Grass grows on Rocks. Rocks put out Fire. And Fire burns Grass. Easy peasy.”
Maddy still looked confused, but she put out her hands to play against Nisha. On the count of three, Maddy made the sign for Grass—she flattened her hand. And Nisha made the sign for Fire—she pointed two fingers straight up like flames.
“Fire burns Grass. I win. That means Marco and I get to wear the Balloon Vests!” Nisha said happily.
Marco had almost forgotten about Nisha’s invention. But Logan hadn’t. When he heard he wouldn’t wear the camouflage vest today, he looked more disappointed than ever.
“Race you to the base?” asked Marco, trying to cheer him up.
Logan grinned and took off like a shot.
“Hey, no fair!” said Marco, trailing behind. But we might as well get this game over with, he thought. He rounded a bend in the trail and turned on a burst of speed.
“Ooh, it’s cold,” said Marco, squirming. Nisha was helping him put on the Balloon Vest. It felt squishy and super heavy.
“How’s this?” he heard Logan call from outside the tree house. Logan was in charge of sliding the Team Treecko flag into the bracket beside the ladder.
Nisha glanced out the window. “I wish it could be up on the deck,” she said. “How can you defend the flag when it’s partway down the ladder?”
Marco knew that the counselors had decided where the brackets should go, but the flag did seem pretty low. Maybe it’s so no one will fall trying to capture it, he thought.
“Don’t worry,” said Logan confidently. “Maddy and I won’t let anyone get the flag.”
“That’s right,” piped up Maddy. “Logan and I make a great team.”
Logan turned toward Marco and made a goofy scared face. “Don’t leave me here with her!” he whispered. He put his hands together like he was praying. “Take me with you, please! Please!”
Marco laughed, which made him feel less nervous. But when he heard the whistle blow, his stomach lurched.
Time to go, he told himself. Ready or not.
CHAPTER FOUR
“There’s one!” whispered Nisha, ducking down behind a bush.
Marco glanced over her shoulder and saw it—the chestnut-brown Team Chespin flag. Their secret base was hidden in a grove of pine trees.
“Let’s go!” said Nisha, preparing to run for the flag.
“Wait!” whispered Marco, grabbing the back of her orange vest. “Where are they?”
“Who?” asked Nisha.
“Team Chespin!” he said. “If they start beaming us with water balloons, it’s going to be hard to get that flag.”
Nisha smiled and pointed to his vest. “That’s why you have that,” she said. “I’ll run for the flag, and you cover me. If they start throwing balloons, throw them right back.”
Before Marco could argue, she jumped up and sprinted toward the flag. From out of nowhere, two kids in brown T-shirts popped up and bombed her with balloons.
“Cover me!” called Nisha as the first balloon bounced off her shoulder.
Marco stuck his hand into his vest to grab a balloon. But it was stuck! C’mon! he thought, tugging harder.
Splat! The balloon burst in his hand, and cold water soaked through his T-shirt.
When Nisha got back to the bushes, she was soaking wet, too. But she flashed a victorious smile as she held up the brown flag. “We got it!”
No thanks to me, thought Marco sadly.
Nisha didn’t seem to notice his disappointment. “Let’s go!” she said, running for the trees.
Marco raced after her. His vest felt heavier than ever.
Nisha spotted the next secret base, too. A fiery orange flag peeked out from a pile of rocks.
Uh-oh, thought Marco. Team Fennekin.
The base looked more like a bear cave than a fox den. Nisha led Marco in a full circle around it, searching for the best way to attack. Marco, meanwhile, kept his eyes peeled for kids in orange T-shirts—with water bombs.
Crack! He stepped on a branch. Nisha whirled around, eyes wide.
Had Team Fennekin heard him, too? Marco stood still for a moment, watching the rocks for movement. There was nothing.
“You go for the flag this time,” whispered Nisha. “I’ll cover you.”
Marco swallowed hard. He flashed back to his dream, wishing that he had Pikachu on his shoulder. Then he remembered the hot breath of the Mightyena on his heels. He shook his head. Don’t think about the dream, he scolded himself. Just forget about it already.
Nisha poked his vest with her elbow. “Go now!” she urged. “Before they see us!”
So Marco stood up. His knees wobbled as he jogged toward the flag.
The first balloon hit him square in the forehead. Then he saw a flash of red, and two more balloons pelted him in the chest.
Get the flag! he told himself. Keep running! But with water streaming into his eyes, he couldn’t even see the flag. He didn’t see Sam stick his leg out from behind a boulder, either—not until it was too late.
Marco tripped and landed hard, scraping his hands and knees,
“Gotcha!” Sam jeered, jumping out from behind the rock.
Marco looked up and took another water bomb in the face. “Stop it!” he hollered, but he knew Sam wouldn’t stop—even though Marco was defenseless and on the ground.
Get up, Marco told himself. Get up! He used every ounce of energy he had to crawl to his knees and stumble away from Sam.
Then another member of Team Fennekin stepped into his path—the huge boy who looked more like a full-grown man. As Marco dodged away, he could have sworn he heard the boy growl. Growl like a Mightyena.
Marco cut a path between Sam and the growling boy. He hit the woods, and kept running. Nisha was calling his name, but he ran even faster. He just ran.
Marco waited until he heard the whistle blow. Finally, he thought. The game is over.
He left his hiding place in the bushes and made his way back to the Team Treecko secret base.
“There you are!” said Maddy, dangling her feet over the edge of the deck. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
Nisha came out of the tree house behind her. “Where’d you go?” she asked Marco. “I kept calling for you!”
“I … um … ran out of water balloons,” said Marco, patting his flattened vest. It was sort of true. He didn’t tell Nisha why all of his balloons were gone. It had happened when he was running away from that big Team Fennekin kid. Marco had glanced over his shoulder for just a second—and run smack into an oak tree.
He remembered the feeling: a gazillion water balloons exploding on him all at once. That explained why his shorts were drenched. He hoped no one would think he’d peed his pants.
“Did you get any flags?” Nisha asked hopefully.
Marco held up his empty hands and hung his head. Just like in my dream, he thought sadly. His nightmare had come true.
“Me, neither,” said Nisha. “I mean except for the Team Chespin one we got together.�
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“We lost our flag, too,” Maddy confessed, pointing to the empty bracket on the ladder.
“Only because we ran out of water balloons,” said Logan, stepping out onto the deck. He looked as disappointed as Marco felt.
“You ran out of balloons, too?” asked Nisha. “There seems to be a lot of that going around.” She shot Marco a look and said, “Anyway, we’d better get going. Professor Birch blew his whistle like ten minutes ago.”
Marco nodded sadly. As he stepped away from the ladder so that his friends could come down, he nearly slipped. The ground was wet and littered with broken balloons. Logan and Maddy must have fought pretty hard before losing the flag, he thought.
Then, as he glanced back up, a patch of color caught Marco’s eye. Something was drawn on the smooth bark of a nearby tree.
“Um, guys,” he said. “Come here. You have to see this.”
“What?” asked Maddy.
“Just get down here,” said Marco, louder this time.
One by one, Team Treecko climbed down the ladder and joined Marco. When Logan got there, he sucked in his breath.
On the side of tree, someone had chalked a picture of Treecko. The green gecko-like Pokémon was wearing a diaper and sucking on a baby bottle. Above him, colorful letters spelled out the words “Team Tickle-Tickle.”
“Who did that?” asked Logan.
“Who do you think did it?” said Marco, anger creeping into his voice.
The answer hung in the air like a dark storm cloud.
“But when?” said Logan. “We were here the whole time!”
“Fennekin is like a fox, and foxes are sly,” Nisha reminded him. “And pretty good artists, too,” she added under her breath.
Marco hated to admit it, but Nisha was right. The drawing really did look like Treecko—except for the diaper. Had Stella drawn it? Or one of the other Team Fennekin members? It couldn’t have been Sam. He was back at the base, thought Marco. He stared at his scraped hands and felt another wave of anger.
Maddy shot Nisha a fierce look. “I don’t think it’s very good art,” she said. Her cheeks were blotchy. Was she thinking about what Sam had said to her? Wook at da widdle baby.
