Robert leaned in. “And what did she say?”
“She said, probably not worth much, BUT then he went on and said maybe they don’t have much, YET these kids never, never ever think of suicide as an option. They never do. Then he asked her why is it always the people that have so much that are the ones who can so easily take their lives when they confront their first challenge or sorrow? He said to her that these kids, they are the heroes we should look to when we start crying about some pain we might have in our life.”
Robert was blown away listening to Philip. He spoke with such clarity and passion about this mysterious P.K. Phoenix.
“So what happened, Philip?”
“Well, she said those kids in Africa could never know the love she felt and then said she was taking the last bottle of pills and she had taken a bottle of vodka from her dad’s liquor cabinet and was drinking that, too.”
“So how did she survive then?”
“Well, this P.K. Phoenix guy, apparently he looked up her address and called 911 and the police and ambulance came. Her parents were downstairs watching a movie the whole time and she said they had no idea what was going on. But those ambulance guys saved her life. They said in a couple of hours she would have been dead from the mixture of drugs she took.”
“Okay, but how does she know it was this P.K Phoenix guy who called 911?”
“Well, apparently he wrote her to ask her if the help came on time.” Philip turned the video back on and the screen came to life with Megan talking:
“He saved my friend. When everyone else was telling her to kill herself, he cared. I mean, really, guys, how...I mean how did he know my friend’s address? And my friend tells me that his words when he writes to you...it’s like...it’s like he knows all your secrets.” Then a voice asked her if her friend has met this Phoenix guy yet.
“Listen to her, Mr. Sanchez.”
A close up on Megan as she spoke filled the screen. “No, he says that night when she wanted to kill herself, he cried for her. And now they can never meet because when you’re touched by the tears of the Phoenix that saved you, you can never see the bird again. But then he said, don’t worry, they will always be connected and he will always be there for me...I mean her...my friend...Listen guys, seriously...so now I’ve connected with him, I’ll send you his Facebook page. Write him if you have anything bothering you. Write him. Write him, he listens!”
Philip froze the screen again. “Mr. Sanchez...”
“Yeah, Philip, what?”
Philip turned to me and started to cry and then, in a small little boy’s voice, one that I could hardly hear, he said, “I don’t know what to do.” But by the time he got to the last word, his body shook hard and his small cry erupted into thunderous sobs. He shook so hard I was worried he might fall off the chair, so I turned a chair around and sat down, facing him. I put my hands on his knees. He didn’t pull away; instead he bent over, lowered his head into my hands and wept.
It lasted for a couple of minutes. Every few seconds it looked as if he was about to stop, but like a thunderstorm, he surprised me by booming into the next cry. I didn’t say a word. He held on to my hands the way a man who has been hanging onto a cliff for hours would grab you as you tried to pull him up.
Slowly, his hands let go of mine. He let them go as if at that moment he might need to grab them again, much like a child letting his mother go and trying to take his first steps. He raised his hands, grabbed his T-shirt and wiped his face. But he was delicate, unlike the last time in Mr. Bosco’s office. He took his time to wipe his face dry and when he lowered his T-shirt, although his face looked swollen and red, his eyes were peaceful.
I waited a moment to see if he wanted to speak first, but he just kept staring at me with that look, as if I should be the one to say something. But I wasn’t sure what caused Philip’s wailing. Why was he telling me he didn’t know what to do? Did he want to kill himself as well? Was he feeling remorse that he didn’t do anything that night when Megan was taking the pills? I just didn’t know so I just simply asked him, “What is it that you don’t know what to do?”
And, as calm as Robert had ever seen Philip, he smiled the smallest of guilty smiles and said, “I don’t know if I should tell Megan...that...I’m P.K. Phoenix.”
“What?” Robert shook his head in disbelief. “Philip! What?”
Philip shyly nodded his head.
I had to take a moment to think about this whole scenario. Who was this kid? Questions were mounting in my head. Who was this kid that took the time to write down and colour code every person he confronted for a week to find out who was hurting him? Who was this kid that was so afraid to be touched, had felt abundant abuse from so many bullies in his life, and yet he still asked for help to change, to make it better? Who was this Philip Kong? And then it hit me: “P.K. Phoenix”...
“Oh, P.K...is...Philip Kong,” I said aloud. “But...why a phoenix?”
“Well, that’s the book where Neville finally comes to life in the series, Mr. Sanchez, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix,” Philip explained in his I’m-very-sorry voice.
“Oh, well, that makes sense, I guess,” Robert said, still a bit stunned at the masquerade Philip had gone through in order to save a life. He looked at Philip for more explanation, but Philip just looked at him like a little boy waiting for his dad to come up with a plan to help him out of the mess he had gotten himself into.
“Okay, Philip. First, let me say I’m really proud of the way you saved a life. It’s a pretty awesome thing to do. Yet, you can get into a lot of trouble disguising yourself and pretending to be other people on the internet.”
“But it’s only for good, Mr. Sanchez, it’s only for good. I mean, lots of people do it. Why do you think every superhero has a disguise? Like Batman and...Superman, Green Lantern and—”
“Philip, Philip, those are comic books!”
But Philip just became more animated in his defense of a secret identity. “Okay, then how about all those phone help lines...or 911? Those people don’t tell you who they are! And what about all those other help sites on the internet? They ask for money to help you, but they never show their faces either! See, I don’t get it, Mr. Sanchez, I’m only trying to help. I’m not asking for money. And, imagine if all those people knew it was me, Blubber Butt Kong, trying to help her, do you know what they’d say? Do you know, Mr. Sanchez? They’d say, ‘Leave her alone and go kill yourself, fat ass!’”
Philip didn’t say that last line with any anger or hurt. He just said it like he was discussing the result of some mathematical equation.
And sadly, the truth was, I knew Philip’s formula might be the reality of the world. Who wants to be saved by a Knight in rusty ill-fitting armour? She was the beauty to his beast. And even though he was fighting for a better position in his young teenage life at school, he definitely knew the uselessness of certain equations. And big, overweight kids didn’t have the right to save pretty girls. The Prince Charmings saving damsels in distress were not the Philip Kongs of the world. And so, if he was going to do any saving, he would have do it as the mysterious, undefined PK Phoenix.
“Wait, Philip, have you or PK Phoenix ever done this before?”
Philip twisted his arms between his legs and tilted his head like someone who had done something wrong and was about to admit it.
“Yeah, kind of. But this is the first time anyone has ever really tried to contact me.”
Robert silently nodded his head and looked at Philip. Well, he’s got a point. I mean, he’s not a trained professional, but is he really doing any harm? Using a secret identity to help others, how harmful could it be?
“Okay, Philip, maybe you’re right,” Robert said. “But I’m not sure about all the laws on the internet and I think if you’re going to be helping people and that’s the only reason for that identity, I think you have to say that right on your —You did this on Facebook?”
“Yeah.”
“So, do you wan
t people to know what you did Philip?”
“Well, I told you.”
“Yeah, but Philip, if you’re going to disguise yourself to help people and then you start feeling you need to get recognition for your good deeds, well, you could become frustrated and maybe it could become something bad.”
“Yeah, Mr. Sanchez. That’s it! I don’t want it to become bad, that’s why I’m asking you what I should do.”
“All right Philip, then answer this question first. Why are you doing this? Are you doing it to meet girls? Make friends? Be a hero? Ask yourself, why are you doing this?”
There was a quick knock on the door and then it opened. It was a middle-aged Asian woman who bowed slightly as she spoke.
“Oh, excuse me. I was told to come and get Philip in this room. I am so sorry. So sorry to interrupt but, Philip, your father has been waiting now for ten minutes in front of the school.”
Then she bowed to me. “Please...I am sorry. Please excuse my interruption. I am Philip’s mother.”
I stood up and shook her hand and told her who I was. “Wonderful to meet you, Mrs. Kong. I’m Robert Sanchez. Philip is doing a special project for me. I’m sure he has told you about it.”
She shook my hand and let go of it as fast as she could. It wasn’t hard to see where Philip got his shy hands from.
“We are so grateful for you tutoring our son, Mr. Sanchez. We are so grateful. I’m so sorry to interrupt, but we are late.”
Philip had gathered his things and was already standing behind his mother.
“Mrs. Kong, may I have one moment with Philip, just a second please?”
“Of course, Mr. Sanchez.” She bowed and walked out of the room, but stood beside the open doorway, looking in. Robert took a step closer to Philip and smiled. “Tutoring, Philip? How many disguises do you have?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Sanchez, but if my parents knew what I was doing with you and, well, for your kind of workshops, they would never approve. We’re not that kind of people,” he whispered. He glanced at the door and we both saw his mother smile at us. But you could tell it was not a patient smile.
“Okay, Philip,” Robert said in a louder voice. “We will see each other in four days. Please come with the answer to that question. Why you do this? Okay? See you then, Philip, and nice to meet you, Mrs. Kong. Great boy you have there!”
Philip bowed his head as he exited the room and his mother backed her way out of Robert’s view, all the while smiling and bowing. They both vanished from the office, leaving him with an uneasy feeling.
Unfortunately, there were some scheduling mix-ups at the school so the next time Philip and I met was almost a month later. We didn’t have any time to speak before he was in the room with me filming the next step in the student leadership workshop.
Philip was just as amazing as last time—moving from group to group with such ease—his presence was almost undetectable. Yet today, Philip seemed even more at ease; at times I saw him silently communicating with a couple of students as he went by their groups. And I’m sure that some students were nodding back to him to say hello. It wasn’t as if at the last workshop any of these leader students were in the slightest way mean or disrespectful towards Philip, but I never noticed any real signs of him being acknowledged or engaged. And at one point, as some students were standing up and moving from group to group, I’m sure I saw Megan Moregenstein, the girl Philip saved, I was sure I saw her wave into the camera as if she was waving to Philip.
Something had changed in Philip, for at one point in the afternoon he came behind me and actually touched me by tapping me on the shoulder. He just wanted to ask me a simple logistic question about closing a window blind because of the light, but I couldn’t help but notice he had actually touched me.
After the workshop was over, Philip said he had to pick up something from one of his teachers in Mr. Bosco’s office but would be back in fifteen minutes to go over the footage. Robert had to go to the washroom and as he walked through the halls and down the stairs to the washrooms, he started to notice all these handmade signs hanging in different places. One said, “Someone saying ‘hi’ saved my day,” and another said, “Make someone feel like they belong,” and “No one should feel alone, just say ‘hi.’” Another said, “You don’t need to save your hellos.” There seemed to be no particular special movement going on in the school, but it was nice to see some kids actively trying to say positive things and leaving them for others to read.
Between the two of us, I’m not sure who was more anxious to talk. My curiosity about how Philip had handled his situation with PK Phoenix and Megan Moregenstein was quite strong. But the moment Philip walked into the classroom, he closed the door, leaned against it and immediately said, “Guess what?”
Before I could say anything, he came around the desk, opened his computer and started talking with the energy of a news reporter who had just received the greatest scoop ever.
“Okay, Mr. Sanchez. Okay...there are just too many things to tell you. But don’t think I forgot your question. First, I’m sorry about my mom, and me having to tell her you were tutoring me. You see, I don’t know what would happen if they knew I was being a part of something that has people talking about their feelings, especially at school! If they knew I was missing some classes to be doing this, well, I’d probably be grounded forever. Not that it matters about being grounded ‘cause I don’t really go anywhere—” Then he cut himself off. “Sorry, look, I just wanted to say, don’t think badly of me for telling my parents you’re tutoring me, ‘cause I think what you’re doing is great but my dad and mom, they still live with the old country rules. They wouldn’t think you are a bad person for what you do, but they don’t like the Western ways. They are always suspicious. But please, I hope you don’t think I was being disrespectful, it’s just—”
Robert had to stop him, for it seemed the apology was going to last forever and he really wanted to hear about his guess what!
“Philip, it’s okay. I know sometimes it’s difficult to appease what our parents want and what we want. But please, tell me what happened.”
Philip was almost overwhelmed with excitement as he spoke. “Okay, okay...Well, first, let’s see...Okay, first the project you put me on, you know, the one about what I think when I see anyone? Well, I haven’t been able to do it every day ‘cause...” Then he paused as if he needed to think it clearly out. He thought for a second and said, “Okay,” and pulled out his laptop and opened up that same coloured chart he had before.
“So look, see...it’s so working, Mr. Sanchez. It’s so working. See...look, the red just keeps going down. Remember, red is where I think bad stuff about what people think of me. Okay, look...I still have to forget about Kevin Forrester and whoever he’s around because I’m still...well, you know, fat and everything to him. But look. I don’t know if you remember but purple, purple is where someone says hi or even waves or nods. Well, I don’t know if you noticed but when I first did this I never had any purple, but now every day—purple...Purple! Mr. Sanchez. Look, it just started last week. A minimum of at least three purples a day!”
It was incredible witnessing Philip’s simple happiness! So many of us take these things for granted, but for the last week there were at least three people that said ‘hi’ to Philip Kong and for that, he was on a purple cloud nine.
“That’s great, Philip! So great! And if anyone deserves it, you do! So do you know how this change happened?”
Philip slowly closed his laptop computer and stared at the floor. Robert waited a moment, but he wasn’t moving and still stared at the floor.
“Is there something you want to tell me, Philip?”
He slowly lifted his head and said, “The thing is, Mr. Sanchez, now hearing you say great, well...maybe now I’m not so sure I do deserve it. You see, I thought about what you asked me. Why did I help Megan and why did I do something like that. And do I want people to know it was me that helped her? I really thought about it and you know
what? Really, I don’t need her to know it was me.”
Robert moved a chair and sat beside him. “Truthfully, Philip?”
“Yeah, really. Honest. I think I just like doing it. It made me feel great about me. It was the first time in my life I felt good about being me and doing something that I wasn’t doing for my parents’ approval or as a career move for them...I was doing it because it made me...me feel good.”
“So why would you think you don’t deserve people saying ‘hi’ to you then?”
Philip scrunched up his face and became that shy little boy again. “Well, Mr. Sanchez, I...I did this thing. Well, more than one thing, I guess...You see, after that night we talked—about a month ago—when I got home I had about eight messages. Well, I should say, PK Phoenix did. One was from Megan and three of her friends...The other three, I don’t know them, but I recognized their names. And the last one...I don’t know this guy at all. Don’t think he goes to our school. He writes that he heard about me helping people like him. Says everyone picks on him and that he couldn’t do it anymore. He actually wrote that he was pretty sure he was going to kill himself. Anyway, so I wrote him back and told him to try doing what you told me to do. That maybe what he thinks is everybody picking on him might actually be only a few people. He needed to start believing that he belonged just like anybody else. And I told him to start keeping track of every time someone says ‘hi’ or doesn’t do anything to make him feel like he doesn’t belong. And guess what, Mr. Sanchez? For the next week, he wrote to me every day and said it was amazing that what he thought was ‘everyone’ was really just a couple of people. And Megan kept writing to me asking me how she could repay me for saving her life. So, well and this is why I’m not so sure I deserve it. See, I told her the way to repay me is...is for her to save someone else.”
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