I Am Phantom

by Sean Fletcher

  “Yes.”

  “I’m not normal,” I confided.

  “You’re a dork,” she agreed. “But that explains how you beat me in fighting. I can’t compete with super speed.”

  “Will you stop joking, Liz?” I exploded. We froze on the sidewalk. A couple other people glanced at us but kept walking. “You’ve seen what I can do to people.”

  “Drake, listen to me—no, look at me.” I finally turned back to her. “You know what I saw there? I didn’t see a monster or a freak or anybody other than you. All I saw was you helping someone weaker than yourself.” She zipped her jacket up higher as a gust of wind blew down the sidewalk. “I started karate after my younger brother died,” she said, as though expelling a pent up secret. “I learned to defend myself because he never could.”

  “Liz…” She held up her hand.

  “He was bullied day after day until it ended.”

  “They stopped?”

  “He shot himself,” she said matter-of-factly. No grimace. No fluff. All her tears had been cried, leaving only hardness and dedication. “And since then I’ve wanted to right the wrongs I see in this world. To protect myself and help others do the same.”

  I couldn’t say anything for a little while. Somewhere during all of that we had started walking again.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. “I had no idea.”

  “Because I never told you. Very much like another secret one of us was keeping.”

  I wasn’t about to say that my secret was a little more important to keep than hers, but I think she read it in my expression.

  Liz laughed quietly. “I guess when I think about it, it kind of makes sense. I’ve never seen anyone as good as you at fighting. And how busy you’ve been, and the injuries. It’s not much but it makes sense to me.”

  “So does any of this bother you?”

  “Yes. You lied to me on our first date. That’s not a good start to a long-term relationship.”

  I felt myself getting defensive, while another part perked up at long-term. I had nearly gotten shot at, after all.

  “A lie of omission doesn’t count. Besides, saying I’m a vigilante isn’t something you casually bring up. ‘Would you like some bread rolls, oh, and while we’re on the subject I’m the vigilante known as Phantom. You may have heard of me. Try the eggplant; it’s divine’.” I looked at her like ‘hello?’. “Not normal for a standard first date.”

  Liz waved her hand in a gesture that said the very idea of super human vigilantes was a trite concern compared to my not-so-honest-honesty. “Minor details, but a lie nonetheless.”

  “You’re taking this very well.”

  “How should I be taking it?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe a hint of skepticism and a dash of disbelief. I imagined more freaking out.”

  “I’m offended you imagined me freaking out. But, Drake,” at this she gently touched my hand. Shivers shot up my arm. “Don’t lie, please, not to me. I’ve been lied to enough my whole life. I want the truth now.”

  I couldn’t look away from her deep, honest eyes.

  “Yeah. Yeah, I think I can do that.” I took a deep breath and pulled my coat tighter around me. “Sorry, it’s just…I’ve almost never revealed myself to anyone.”

  Liz smirked at me. “Well, please don’t start on my account.” I felt myself blush when I realized what I’d said.

  “You know what I mean!” I sputtered while Liz laughed. After a second I smiled too. I couldn’t help it when she laughed like that. “Any giant secrets you want to divulge while we’re on a roll here?”

  And just like that she reached up on her tiptoes and kissed me. I stood frozen even after she pulled away. Heat rushed through my body, and I suddenly wasn’t cold anymore.

  “Nope. I think we’ve met our quota for one night. But maybe…maybe another night we can divulge more.”

  The butterflies started again. “I think I’d like that.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Christmas Break

  Christmas break saved my life. Both because Phantom really needed a break, and because the police had actually started perceiving me as a threat rather than just an overzealous, justice-seeking freak in a costume. The good news was there had been no reports from the police about Project Midnight. Whether it was because they had them under control or hadn’t even found them I didn’t know.

  And then there were the nightmares. I couldn’t get them out of my head no matter how hard I tried or how many sleeping pills I took. Scenes of knives piercing flesh and the disturbingly melodic sound of bodies hitting the floor.

  I had planned to spend the break at school but was surprised when Matt awkwardly—shocker—told me his parents had paid for a plane ticket for a short flight to his house to spend part of the break in Maine. Who am I to turn down an offer like that?

  Here I was, stepping off the plane with my suitcase and backpack with the stitched up costume Matt had insisted I bring. I swore not to wear it over vacation. Luckily, the last two weeks in Queensbury before the break had been quiet crime wise. Which was good since I had been almost scared to go out as Phantom. If it was possible the police patrols had tripled around campus.

  I needed a break.

  “Come on,” Matt said, rolling his suitcase through the gate and past the baggage claim where people stood holding signs.

  A man in a suit waved his sign at us. “Matthew! Over here!”

  “You have your own chauffeur?” I said. I had no idea Matt was that rich. Actually, I had no idea about Matt, really. The guy barely talked about himself.

  “Just to my house,” Matt said stiffly. The man bounded over and pulled the suitcases out of our hands while simultaneously shaking mine.

  “Jack’s my name. You must be Mr. Sinclair. Matthew told us he was bringing a friend. How exciting! I don’t believe Matthew’s brought a friend home in a long, long, long—”

  “Is the car around here, Jack?” Matt said quickly. “We need to be getting home.”

  “Of course. This way.” He led us to a pickup circle where a fancy looking black car sat idling.

  “Your own car and chauffer,” I said. “Pretty cool, Matt.”

  Matt looked like he was trying to tell if I was being sarcastic or not. “I’m—rolling in it? Right?”

  “Hop in!” Jack held the door open for both of us. “Next stop, Warner mansion.”

  Jack jabbered the entire ride. He was funny and had some great stories so I didn’t mind, though Matt didn’t look too happy about it. The closer we got to his house—no, mansion—the more somber he got, like he regretted inviting me, or Cody and Melanie, for that matter, who would both be coming to visit a little bit before Christmas since they didn’t live too far away.

  “Thank you for coming, Drake,” Matt said suddenly, interrupting Jack mid-sentence. Jack glanced back at us in the rear view mirror.

  “No, problem,” I said. “Thanks for having me. I hope I’m not a problem or anything.”

  Jack beamed. “Your parents will be thrilled to hear how you’re getting on in school, Matthew. And I’m eager to hear about the—the—whatever project you were working on that was far too complicated for me.”

  Matt nodded like he was happy Jack had even remembered he had a project. I looked out the window at the passing countryside. We had driven past three other mansions up until now, perched on hilltops. Pastures stretched for miles, unmarred by footprints, leading to the horizon of a grey sky. Abandoned sleds and toys lay half buried in thick snow banks.

  “We’re here,” Jack said twenty minutes later, easing the car into another of the wide mouthed, gated driveways. We had arrived at the Warner mansion. He punched a keypad outside the window and the gates swung open.

  The mansion looked just as grand as all the others we had passed, but I was still impressed. I knew absolutely nothing about architecture but I could tell this was a spectacular work of art. The arches over the huge windows looked almost as calming as the monastery’s back h
ome. Snow covered what I’m guessing would have been an elaborate, beautiful garden below.

  Jack opened the car door for us and Matt and I walked up the marble steps and through the front door. A ceiling that was way too tall to be practical domed elegantly high above. Light from outside spilled on a rolling staircase and expensive looking pottery and paintings lining the border of the room. I smelled food from a kitchen just behind a doorway under the staircase.

  “Matty!” A small blur zipped by me and clambered into Matt’s arms.

  “Hello, Cecily,” Matt said, his voice muffled under his sister’s death hug on his face. She looked like she was only six, with the same bunch of brown hair as Matt. She was barefoot and skinny as a stick.

  “I missed you so much and there’s so much I’ve done and—” She froze when she saw me. Her eyebrows flew into her hair. “A friend! Matty’s got a friend, mommy!”

  “I have friends, yes, yes I do,” Matt said indignantly. “Why is this such a surprise to everyone?”

  Matt gave Cecily another gentle squeeze and let her down. She immediately scrambled into my arms and pushed her face close to mine.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Drake,” I said.

  “Drake? Oh, you’re the one from another country, right? So is all of this a shock? Did you totally spaz when you got here?”

  Yep, definitely siblings.

  “I was confused, but your brother helped me adjust.”

  “Cecily, darling, please get off our guest.”

  A willowy woman entered and Cecily detached from my arms and ran and clutched her mother’s skirt. I could see where Matt got his skinniness in Mrs. Warner, but she wore it gracefully, almost regally.

  “Drake, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” The willowy woman gently shook my hand as Jack brought our suitcases in from the car, letting in another chilly blast of air.

  “Please come this way. We’re about to have dinner. Jack will take your things upstairs.” She pecked Matt on the cheek. “It’s great to see you, Matthew. Your father is out but will be back in a bit.”

  “Oh.”

  Mrs. Warner’s happy expression dropped a bit. She turned back to me. “I hope you like Cod, Drake.”

  Like what? “I love it,” I said. We followed Mrs. Warner into a dining room with even more expensive looking things and I took a seat on one of the sides facing a window overlooking their massive backyard. There were already warm plates and iced drinks poured for us. Mrs. Warner told us to start eating. For a little while there was only the satisfied clinking of silverware. I had no idea what the food in front of me was. Cod, I guess, but it tasted good.

  “How are classes going, Matthew dear?” Mrs. Warner asked. He had barely touched his food, but instead picked at it like a doctor performing surgery.

  “Fine.”

  “Just fine?”

  “Great,” Matt said. Mrs. Warner’s lips pursed as she cut her meat. Cecily banged her plate.

  Mrs. Warner folded her napkin. “And Drake, how about you—”

  That’s when Mr. Warner burst in, and let me tell you, I don’t know how I didn’t hear him coming. He made as quiet an entrance as a charging rhino in a suit. He beamed at all of us when he stormed in, revealing bright white teeth and the cheekbones of a movie star.

  “There he is! Drake Sinclair!” He seized my hand and roughly shook it. “Nice, firm grip, I like it!” In one broad sweep he settled in his chair and dug into his meal.

  Matt had only glanced up briefly when his dad had entered before continuing to disembowel his meal.

  “Haven’t heard much about you, Drake. Matthew here isn’t so great at staying in touch. First time we heard you were coming here I couldn’t believe Matt had made a friend.”

  “Dear, please,” Mrs. Warner said, looking strained. Mr. Warner ignored her.

  “So, Drake, you play any sports? Football? Basketball? Can’t tell me you do nothing with an athletic build like that!”

  “I, uh….”

  “Body building! I should have guessed. Used to do a little of that myself in college to blow off steam. That’s why my wife loves me, right, honey? My physique with a little Warner charm sprinkled on top. Though we met through our jobs, not at the gym.”

  “What do you two do?” I blurted out before Mr. Warner could keep blathering.

  “We’re both in real estate,” Mrs. Warner said.

  “Family business,” Mr. Warner said. “I thought Matthew would keep up with it but I guess tinkering in labs is what he wants to do.”

  “Dear—”

  “I don’t tinker, I invent,” Matt said, not looking up from his plate. “I’ve invented a lot of things.”

  “Let’s see them then!” Mr. Warner said, wiping his mouth and crushing his napkin into a ball. “Come on. Where are your inventions?”

  For some reason I had the strong urge to whip out the Phantom costume and shove it in Mr. Warner’s face.

  “I don’t have them with me,” Matt said sullenly. “They’re at school.”

  “Of course they are. Right where they’d be most useless. Pie, Drake?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Pie. Do you want pie? An athlete like yourself can splurge a little around Christmas, right?”

  I accepted a slice while Mrs. Warner wrestled a spoon from Cecily, who had taken to flinging peas across the table. Matt mumbled a thank you as his mom dished an especially large slice onto his plate.

  I considered Mr. Warner very carefully. How best to defend my friend while not pissing off the guy who flew me here and was putting a roof over my head in the dead of winter?

  “Have you seen what Matt’s working on, Mr. Warner?” I asked. Matt shot me a ‘give up now’ look.

  Mr. Warner grunted and took a bite of pie. “Sciency stuff I’m sure. I’m grateful they have that government facility or what not there. Puts a little structure instead of letting them make whatever.”

  I hoped costumes for vigilantes didn’t fall into the ‘whatever’ category.

  “Matt should show you sometime. He’s working on the next generation armor for the army. I’ve seen some of it. Frankly, it’s amazing. A man like yourself can of course appreciate the practical application.”

  Even Mrs. Warner was looking confusedly at me. It was like I was selling him something.

  “Of course I can, Drake. Matthew,” his eyes flicked to Matt, who stiffened. “you have any of that stuff with you?”

  “The program won’t let us take it out of the lab. Maybe if you came and visited I could show you.”

  Mr. Warner chewed thoughtfully. “Might have to do that. Wouldn’t hurt to check up on you from time to time. I hear that school of yours needs an iron fist right now. Needs a little extra muscle with all that’s going on. Take that Phantom character. Guy’s a problem, a menace with a couple of screws loose. Starts by beating up some crooks and now is raiding warehouses singlehandedly! What does he think they police are there for, the clean up crew? They need to bring him down before he does some real damage.”

  “I think he’s doing some good,” Matt blurted out. “Crime has gone down fifteen percent since Phantom’s appeared.”

  “What? Where’d you hear crap like that?”

  “Internet,” Matt lied.

  “Right, and everything’s true on the internet. Mark my words, Matthew, get your nose out of that computer and listen to some real facts, like the news. They’ve been tailing this Phantom freak for a month. That police Chief Ryans looks like a man who means business. Looks like an athlete, and we can appreciate that, can’t we, Drake? He should have this guy caught in no time.”

  “Are you sure you feel safe down there, Matthew?” Mrs. Warner asked. She glanced at her husband. “I’m not so much worried about that Phantom thing as the breakout from that mental prison or whatever.”

  “Francine, honey, Ryans said in an interview just the other night they’ll have both Phantom and the Sykes lunatic caught by the beginning of next year.”
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  Right, I’d like to see him try.

  “How do they plan to do that?” I asked.

  Mr. Warner shrugged and got up. “Who knows how the police do their thing. Francine, your precious baby is just fine there. Now, you up for some pool, Drake?”

  Cody showed up three days later, on the day before Christmas Eve, and Melanie shortly after that. The Warner household was in a kind of festive cheer that was infectious, complete with delicious food, lots of laughter, and gifts, which I completely forgot to buy.

  Christmas decorations had sprung up around the house overnight. A blow up Santa doll, a little too creepy for my taste, dominated the entrance chamber. Candles and holly, laced with the smell of gingerbread, filled the hallways in which Jack and Matt walked back and forth, humming Christmas tunes to themselves.

  After Cody and Melanie arrived, everybody gathered in the gigantic family room, beneath the Christmas tree and in front of a roaring fire nearly as big as my dorm room.

  The conversation was a little one sided. Like, Mr. Warner talked while Melanie and Cody defended the science program as not a ‘sissy centered funnel for brainiacs’. Mrs. Warner asked me all about Bhutan. Cecily twirled a little dance around the room with long streamers tied in her hair and for a little while, I was really, really happy. Almost like I was back home again. I hadn’t thought about home much the past few months. I’d talked to my parents whenever I had the chance, but our lives were so separate now that I still felt severed from them. As though I was no longer a part of their life.

  As evening came the sun disappeared over the snow-covered hilltops. Cecily yawned and Mrs. Warner decided to put her to bed.

  “Let’s go,” Matt said quickly, obviously dreading being in the family room with only his father there.

  Cody, Melanie and I got up and followed him to the entrance chamber where he started to put on a coat.

  “Are you crazy, Matt?” Cody said. “It’s freezing out there. Have you noticed how little warmth I have on my body?”

  “It’s a nice night for a walk,” Matt said simply.

  “Nice…what? Matt—”

  “It is a nice night for a walk,” Melanie agreed, nodding her head minutely towards me. Cody’s eyes widened.