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Ben Y and the Ghost in the Machine

Page 11

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.

 

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