by K. A. Holt
   0BenwhY: Whoa, right?
   0BenwhY: I miss you.
   0BenwhY: But, no offense? It’s starting to get hard for me to perfectly remember your face.
   0BenwhY: It’s getting all soft around the edges now
   0BenwhY: blurring and blending into my brainclouds
   0BenwhY: Brainclouds is a Jordan word for when all your thoughts get jumbled together
   0BenwhY: Your head gets filled with growing brainclouds of jumbled words
   0BenwhY: then some of the words have to rain out of your mouth one by one
   0BenwhY: or even in storms of lots of words
   0BenwhY: That’s the only way to make room for more thoughts.
   0BenwhY: I wish you could’ve met Jordan.
   0BenwhY: He’s about as different from me as ice cream is from
   0BenwhY: a jet ski.
   0BenwhY: he was nice to me today
   0BenwhY: and I was kind of mean to him
   0BenwhY: and I feel terrible
   0BenwhY: and also I got busted doing my ananymous anonomos thing
   0BenwhY: so you were right, about nothing being secret anywhere ever
   0BenwhY: . . .
   0BenwhY: i have so much to talk to you about,
   0BenwhY: i need so much advice
   0BenwhY: but i don’t know where to start
   0BenwhY: it’s all . . . a lot. and then, on top of all that, the lady on the bus scared me.
   0BenwhY: if she’s right, and you’re still alive until you’re forgotten . . .
   0BenwhY: What if I stop being able to remember the angles of your face?
   0BenwhY: What if I start to forget your mahogany voice?
   0BenwhY: What if that means one day *I’m* the one who accidentally kills you forever?
   0BenwhY: What if I become YOUR ghostkiller?
   0BenwhY: . . .
   0BenwhY: . . .
   0BenwhY: I really like the idea that you’re still alive, though, somehow, in some way.
   0BenwhY: My brainclouds are your oxygen.
   0BenwhY: My thoughts about you are like CPR.
   0BenwhY: . . .
   0BenwhY: it’s late and it’s been a wild day and I’m not making any sense
   0BenwhY: . . .
   0BenwhY: . . .
   SBЮBEN: makes perfect sense to me
   I jump up so fast,
   the chair spins across the floor,
   crashing into the wall behind me.
   I slam the computer off so fast,
   I’m sure it crashes, too:
   this system was improperly shut down
   files may have been lost
   Minds may have been lost, too.
   I know it wasn’t him.
   It couldn’t be.
   It couldn’t be.
   I whisper it
   so I can hear the words out loud,
   so I can really, really believe them.
   It couldn’t be.
   It couldn’t be.
   But . . .
   The tiny voice
   from the dark shadows
   in the back of my mind
   slithers awake—
   But . . .
   But . . .
   But . . .
   The tiny voice gets louder,
   no matter how hard I try
   to fight it back,
   it starts to even sing
   just a little bit,
   so that I can hear it louder,
   and clearer
   and brighter
   and bigger. . . .
   But . . .
   But . . .
   But . . .
   What if . . .
   What if the impossible . . .
   What if the impossible just became the possible. . . .
   What if the impossible just became the possible, just like
   Benicio said it could?
   No way.
   No how.
   It wasn’t Benicio.
   I mean, duh.
   It couldn’t be.
   It can’t be.
   His ashes are in that box,
   the one right down the hall,
   on the shelf,
   the center of Mom’s shrine.
   My stomach flips
   and spins
   and crashes in
   on itself.
   But then . . . who?
   How?
   Why now?
   WHAT
   SCHOOL
   I do not love
   riding bus 315
   all alone.
   I do not love
   not talking to Jordan,
   not hearing
   every
   single
   tiny
   detail
   about last night’s
   Fierce Across America episode.
   I do not love
   making the long walk to school
   all by myself,
   not laughing
   at his stories and jokes.
   I do not love
   not being able to find Jordan
   in the halls before class.
   It makes me feel wobbly,
   like I’ve lost myself, too,
   like I’m only half of me,
   wandering aimlessly,
   thinking half thoughts,
   farting half farts.
   Should I keep looking for him?
   Should I leave him alone?
   How can I say I’m sorry
   if he’s nowhere to be found?
   The last time we were apart this long
   was when we’d never met.
   Walking so slow,
   not wanting to go to class,
   but not wanting to go
   anywhere else,
   I drag by the beige globs,
   I drag through the halls,
   I ignore the Ben Who What Whys,
   I listen for
   DRESS CODEs.
   When I pass by
   the library window,
   I stop for a look.
   The Planet Safe Space poster
   looms at me.
   Still giant,
   but different now.
   Some of the rockets
   have names on them,
   and some are almost ready
   to plant their one-person colonies
   on the face
   of Planet Safe Space.
   Some of the names
   are names of people
   who call me Ben Who What Why,
   who call Ace Dress Code,
   Who like to emphasize
   certain words
   like IT
   when they talk to me
   like I’m not
   an actual human person
   with actual human person feelings.
   I go into the library,
   and with a quick rip,
   I pull off a rocket,
   accidentally tearing
   the construction paper
   just a bit
   at the nose.
   I take out my gum,
   stick it on the rocket
   so it fixes the tear,
   and so I can stick it back
   on the poster
   in a much better
   position.
   I write my name
   on the rocket
   I just pointed
   in the opposite direction
   of all the other rockets.
   Now my rocket is closest
   to whatever adventure awaits
   in actual safe space
   far away from here.
   Ace catches me
   on my way to class.
   Brought your belt back.
   From the other day.
   Thanks.
   It really helped . . .
   bring the whole look together.
   I take it without slowing down.
   I’m mad at Ace in a way
   I’ve never been mad before.
   I want to scream so loud
   and so long
   that my head explodes.
   I’
ll probably never
   ever
   have another day
   where no one calls me
   Ben Who What Why.
   And I’ll probably keep
   having days
   where all I want to do
   is cry.
   So, yeah.
   That’s probably why I’m so mad.
   Whether it’s fair or not,
   I blame Ace
   for all of the
   above.
   And ALSO
   Jordan is mad at me,
   which is the worst
   (and which is
   technically
   my own fault,
   but I’m blaming Ace
   for THAT, too).
   Ben Y?
   Ace calls after me,
   but I’m already around the corner,
   heading to lunch.
   As soon as I think
   enough time has passed
   for Ace to
   poof,
   go away,
   disappear,
   I grab a snack
   and duck out
   of the loud
   and smelly
   lunchroom,
   where I didn’t see Jordan
   or Ben B
   or anyone
   I could trust
   to be nice
   to me.
   I jog to the library,
   head to the back,
   find a computer,
   and . . .
   my heart speeds up.
   I don’t like to visit the cabin
   when I’m at school,
   and I know it’s impossible
   to talk to actual Benicio,
   but I want to
   so badly
   it almost
   physically
   hurts.
   Maybe reading the archives will help,
   for a minute anyway,
   and distract me
   from the Not-Benicio
   in the cabin chat last night,
   and whatever that’s about.
   BEFORE
   SB10BEN: i talked to mom today
   SB10BEN: she wasn’t calling from the moon, so i guess you’ve forgiven her?
   0BenwhY: never! i’m going to get your room one day, trust me
   SB10BEN: over my dead body, grasshopper
   0BenwhY: whatever, drama . you lost your room when you got
   SB10BEN: ANYWAY, Mom said you got in a fight at school? What’s THAT about?
   0BenwhY: nothing
   SB10BEN: doesn’t sound like nothing
   0BenwhY: i don’t really want to talk about it
   SB10BEN:
   0BenwhY: uuuugggghhhhhhhhhhh fine.
   0BenwhY: But you stay there.
   0BenwhY: I’m going to build a teeny tiny mini planet with starstone and go up there
   0BenwhY: I need to feel the world at my feet for a minute
   0BenwhY: if I’m going to talk about this AGAIN
   0BenwhY: cause I’ve been talking about it with mom for houuurrrrsssss.
   SB10BEN:
   SB10BEN: how does it feel to know you can build your very own place in space AND have the world at your feet any time you want?
   0BenwhY: it feels like i want to feel that way IRL, not just in Sandbox
   0BenwhY: Boom! Look how fast I built my tiny planet! How does it feel to look up to ME for once.
   SB10BEN: I like your avatar’s shoes, btw. Nice red.
   0BenwhY: Thanks.
   SB10BEN: So. Now that you’re officially over everything (har har), you want to talk about what happened at school?
   0BenwhY: Here’s the thing . . . if I wear red shoes, that doesn’t mean I hate blue shoes
   SB10BEN: uh, yes? correct?
   0BenwhY: I don’t even hate OTHER people who wear blue shoes
   0BenwhY: I’m just a person who likes red shoes.
   0BenwhY: I mean, it’s not like anyone has to wear ONLY blue shoes or ONLY red shoes.
   0BenwhY: Isn’t there room in the world for all colors of shoes? No color is better than another.
   0BenwhY: And no one should tell me what color to wear.
   0BenwhY: you don’t get to make fun of me for wearing shoes when you ALSO WEAR SHOES
   0BenwhY: They’re just shoes!
   SB10BEN: Hey, grasshopper . . . are we still talking about shoes, or—
   0BenwhY: We’re all just shoes!
   0BenwhY: Or wait . . . maybe we’re all feet?
   SB10BEN: And all feet are equal no matter what shoes they wear?
   0BenwhY: YES! Except . . . my feet aren’t equal.
   SB10BEN: Huh?
   0BenwhY: I have eleven toes, remember?
   0BenwhY: My feet are literally not equal.
   SB10BEN: Well, no wonder you stand apart.
   0BenwhY: grooooaaaaannnn
   SB10BEN: So that’s what the fight was about? Your shoes?
   0BenwhY: well it was about why do people think they’re better than me, when really we’re all—
   CHAT INFRACTION
   0BenwhY: what was THAT?
   0BenwhY: What does chat infraction even mean? it kind of sounds like something a teacher would yell in a libr—
   CHAT INFRACTION
   0BenwhY: HEY! Make it stop. That’s super annoying.
   SB10BEN: oh, whoops. I forgot I added in the new code.
   SB10BEN: Something new I’ve been working on. No more than 100 characters per line in chat.
   SB10BEN: You should know, on your third infraction you get ejected from chat and you have a 30 min respawn perio—
   CHAT INFRACTION
   0BenwhY: omg
   0BenwhY: this is the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen
   0BenwhY: why are you working on this?
   SB10BEN: the money guys want to increase game play and decrease chat. they say you can chat anywhere, but yo—
   CHAT INFRACTION
   0BenwhY: blah blah blerg blerg grown-up talk
   SB10BEN: WOW that is annoying.
   0BenwhY: grown-up talk or chat infractions? Answer: BOTH
   0BenwhY: can’t you just tell them this is a dumb idea?
   0BenwhY: 100% of players who’ve tested it hate it.
   SB10BEN: I wish I could, but I but I sold my soul to the and now I do what the says in exchange for the ’s money.
   SB10BEN: that’s why i built this cabin, so at least I have SOME way to keep creating cool things. I hate that wo—
   CHAT INFRACTION
   SB10BEN HAS BEEN EJECTED FROM GAME
   THIRTY MINUTE RESPAWN COUNTDOWN BEGINS NOW
   0BenwhY: omg HARSH
   0BenwhY: but not as harsh as when I use my red shoes to kick your butt and steal your bedroom over your dead—
   CHAT INFRACTION
   0BENWHY HAS BEEN EJECTED FROM GAME
   THIRTY MINUTE RESPAWN COUNTDOWN BEGINS NOW
   THE LIBRARY
   That helped a little,
   but it didn’t quiet
   the whispering,
   taunting
   What if . . .
   What if . . .
   What if . . .
   that’s still
   echoing
   in the back
   of my mind.
   I click away from the archive
   and into live chat.
   Not-Benicio
   probably won’t be here
   at the exact time
   I have lunch,
   but what if . . .
   what if . . .
   what if . . .
   what if I get some
   actual
   Benicio
   advice
   right now
   when I need it
   the most?
   Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time
   I stared at a blinking cursor
   while I ate some chips
   and wished
   for the impossible
   to be possible.
   NOW
   0BenwhY: Hello?
   0BenwhY: Not-Benicio?
 
  0BenwhY: Any chance you’re around?
   0BenwhY: Any chance you’re actually Benicio?
   0BenwhY: Or his ghost?
   0BenwhY: jk, i know you’re not
   0BenwhY: i know that’s impossible
   0BenwhY: anyway
   0BenwhY: If you *are* around, I have twenty minutes, a bag of chips, and a LOT of questions.
   SBЮBEN: What kind of chips?
   0BenwhY:
   SBЮBEN: I’m not a ghost.
   SBЮBEN: I read the chat log from last time
   SBЮBEN: you were saying something about a ghost
   SBЮBEN: i’m not Benicio, either
   SBЮBEN: i don’t even know who that is
   0BenwhY: Thank you for confirming that, Not-Benicio, Not-Ghost.
   0BenwhY: though any person with a brain knows ghosts aren’t real
   0BenwhY: and what do you mean you read the chat log?
   SBЮBEN: just from when you were in the cabin last night. not the whole archive.
   SBЮBEN: that would be super rude and none of my business.
   0BenwhY: WHO ARE YOU AND HOW DO YOU KEEP GETTING IN THIS CABIN????
   0BenwhY: I AM VERY CRANKY AND I WANT ANSWERS.
   0BenwhY: . . .
   0BenwhY: ?????????????????????
   SBЮBEN: I just wanted to talk to you. I want to talk to you right now. That’s why I came back.
   0BenwhY: that does not answer my question
   SBЮBEN: trust me. i’m a good person. who is not a ghost. who wants to chat.
   SBЮBEN: what is this? squishy iron? what can you build with squishy iron?
   0BenwhY: I KNOW YOU’RE NOT A GHOST.
   0BenwhY: you don’t have to keep saying it and saying it.
   0BenwhY: the more you say it, the more i think maybe you’re NOT a good person
   0BenwhY: maybe you’re a creeper
   0BenwhY: and that isn’t squishy iron, it’s an Indestructible Cloud Block
   SBЮBEN: what do you build with an Indestructible Cloud Block?
   0BenwhY: obviously, if you were Benicio’s ghost, you would know.