I Am Phantom

by Sean Fletcher

  “Yes?”

  “Yes. Now go finish packing.”

  What few things I actually wanted to take to college were all packed. I double and triple checked my room to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything. It wasn’t like I could drive on back and get it if I did.

  I was finally going, and who knew how long it would be before I saw my old home again. This time tomorrow I would be out of the country, almost eight thousand miles away.

  The letter from Queensbury University sat on my desk and I grabbed it. I hadn’t lied to Sonam: I was going to Queensbury University.

  But I had never sent for the pamphlet. I had never even applied there. But I had gotten in anyway, on a scholarship no less.

  I remember at first thinking it was a joke when I read the letter explaining about moving in and campus activities. There was no way I had gotten a scholarship. They must have gotten the wrong kid.

  Then the note had fluttered out. It was handwritten. I remember my hands shaking as I read it.

  You think you’re a freak. You are going through things that your friends and family could never understand. But I do. I am like you. I am different.

  If you want answers, come to Queensbury.

  Find me.

  L.S.

  A soft tap on my door snapped me back to the present. I tossed the pamphlet on my bed and answered it. Nobody was there. I looked left and right. The hollow halls were empty.

  I went to close the door and my foot bumped something. A folded robe had been left for me. I took it inside.

  It was a robe just like Sonam wore. Beautifully woven and intricate, a deep crimson. The fabric was tough and yet almost silky. It had no sleeves. A note fluttered out from one of the folds.

  To Drake, for whatever the future may bring. May this remind you of where you will always have a home, and where you will always be welcome. Never forget who you are.

  Sonam

  Sonam had always been uplifting. He was a monk, they were kind of expected to be like that. But his fixation with losing my way was making me paranoid. I put the note down and, checking that nobody was watching, held the robe close. It felt of home and everything I loved here. I was sure everything would turn out fine, and I hoped it would, more than anything else in the world.

  Chapter Two

  Brave New World

  I’ll spare you the sentimental details of how I said goodbye to my parents. How my dad was crying and my mom wouldn’t stop hugging me. Yes I was going to keep in touch and yes I would stay healthy and of course I would study hard. Sonam wasn’t there to see me off. The other monks told my parents that he was deep in fasting and prayer and couldn’t be disturbed. That sucked. He was the only besides my folks who was supposed to be there.

  A man from the village had a car and agreed to drop me off at Paro airport.

  I cannot see myself having a lifelong relationship with airplanes. I was as prepared as I could be for something that massive. And metal. And loud.

  I’d seen plenty of airplanes, but never been inside one. I’m not going to be all tough and pretend like it didn’t faze me. This thing was nice. I took my seat near the back and waited until everybody else filed in and the doors closed.

  Then we took off…and the ground shrank until I could barely see it under us, which shouldn’t have been a problem but for some reason it was here…That’s when I started to kind of panic. My chest got all tight and my head felt light and dizzy. Were my ears supposed to feel this pressured? Were the wings supposed to shake that much?

  I leaned forward and put my head between my legs to feel better. The man sitting next to me shot me a concerned glance from behind his magazine.

  “You okay, son?”

  I was in no state to answer.

  “Here, use one of these.” He grabbed a small bag in the back of the seat in front of us and handed it to me. I could only stare at it in my mind-numbed state.

  “What—what is this for—?” And then I found out. My stomach churned and the man’s eyes widened.

  “Open the bag! Quick!” He scooted as far over in his seat as he could as I fumbled with the bag and people turned and stared at us.

  I hate flying.

  We stopped once in Beijing and honestly, I don’t remember most of it. After I finished splashing water on my face in the bathroom, a flight attendant gave me some medicine she said would help and I passed out. Thankfully, my transfer was on the same plane or I wouldn’t have made it. I didn’t come around until an hour before we landed in North Carolina and by then I stared straight ahead until we touched down.

  The minute the plane came to a stop at the gate I practically shoved past everyone to get off. I almost wished I hadn’t. I’m not completely oblivious to technology. Living in a village a little more secluded from the bigger cities did make it difficult to stay up to date on the latest advances, but it wasn’t like I was a caveman being exposed to the marvels of electricity for the first time.

  People scurried like ants all over the place, grabbing bags and drinking coffee and rolling suitcases. That wasn’t anything new, but this was…different than what I was used to. A different flavor of chaos. The noise never stopped. The air was chilly and my legs stiff and sore from the plane. I stood at the exit ramp of the plane with my mouth wide open until some guy behind me bumped my shoulder and said, “Move it.”

  I did just that and made my way out. My overloaded brain began to process everything and I had the sense to read the signs hanging above the walkway. I followed the one that pointed to the baggage claim.

  Everything became a little simpler after that. I found my bag on a rotating circus ride looking thing and grabbed it before it could disappear again. I made sure nothing was missing and wandered my way out onto the street where there was supposed to be a shuttle from Queensbury picking me up. I must have stood on the side of the road looking like an idiot for twenty minutes.

  Finally the shuttle arrived.

  “You the university kid?” The driver asked, coming down the steps. I said I was and while he tossed my suitcases in the back I found a seat inside. It was a tiny shuttle and there was only one other kid on it, near one of the windows, his face stuck in a laptop. He looked up as I took the window seat across from him.

  Honestly, this kid looked more out of place than I felt. He had thick glasses with badly uncombed brown hair. A crooked nose and watery eyes made him look like he might have pressed his face up against his laptop for too long. I also didn’t think kids my age usually wore a three-piece suit complete with a bowtie when they were moving to college.

  The driver came back in, started the shuttle and pulled in to traffic. I extended a polite hand to the other kid.

  “I’m Drake Sinclair. I just flew in from Bhutan.”

  “Matt.” He didn’t take my hand.

  “Pleased to meet you too,” I said.

  Matt leaned up in his seat and said to the driver, “I thought you said I was going to be the only one you were picking up.”

  The driver gave Matt a funny look in the rearview mirror before changing lanes. “Nope.”

  Wow. Five minutes in and this kid was making a wonderfully horrible first impression. I shrugged and busied myself with staring out the window.

  We hit the highway and drove past some small subdivisions that eventually tapered off to the countryside. The leaves were lightly splashed with orange and red. I noticed Matt occasionally glancing at me. Finally he said, “How long did you live there?”

  Was he actually talking to me? “Where?”

  “Bhutan.”

  “My whole life,” I said.

  “And you’re coming to America for college?”

  “Yeah. For Psychology.”

  “You do know Queensbury isn’t known for psychology, right?”

  “Yes,” I said, refraining from adding a ‘duh’ on the end.

  The shuttle pulled off the highway. We passed cornfields and a lot of flat land. I missed the rolling hills of Bhutan but a moment
later we entered a more mountainous area with tall trees and thick greenery encroaching on the road.

  Matt watched me as though waiting for all this change to send me into raging convulsions. I really didn’t want to get snapped at again but I risked it and said, “So is this your first visit to Queensbury?”

  Matt shook his head. I took that as progress. “And…are you excited to go?” I ventured.

  Matt shrugged. “It’s a junky city other than the university,” he said.

  I decided to leave it at that.

  The contrast between the countryside we had been driving through and Queensbury was startling. One minute we passed cows and red barns and the next we were at a street corner surrounded by skyscrapers.

  Queensbury was pretty big. Not quite as big as New York City, which I’d seen pictures of, but I could definitely imagine myself getting lost in it. A lot.

  And just like that, we were dwarfed by the buildings. The atmosphere was tangible, but not exactly like the buzzing busy hum of the airport. The feeling here was in the crevices and alleyways, a primal, hungry energy. It was terrifying and exhilarating, and there was so much. So many towering buildings and shops, things to climb, things to conquer. I had explored every inch of where I’d lived in Bhutan. The anticipation of the unknown made me want to do the same here.

  And somewhere in that iron jungle was a man (Or woman) who had answers for me. Now that I was actually here the task seemed even more daunting and I realized how incredibly stupid I had been. What had I expected, that whoever wrote the note would just walk right up and introduce themselves? There was an entire city and I had to find one person. Like me, granted, but still one person.

  I didn’t have too much time to worry about it. Something was wrong as we approached the school. Red and blue lights flashed in our car and I heard the driver swear quietly under his breath and take a sharp turn away from the lights. I looked past Matt and out the window. A dozen police stood around an abandoned building, one of them diverting traffic away from entrance and down another road. I thought I saw bullet holes peppering the brick behind the police tape.

  “Wonder if it’s that psycho,” Matt muttered under his breath. Then he noticed I was looking out towards the sirens too and quickly stuck his face back in his laptop.

  “Psycho?” I asked.

  Matt wouldn’t reply.

  “This is it,” the driver said, pulling the shuttle to stop outside of an arched building somewhere near the middle of the Queensbury campus. “Everybody off.” I looked out the window and read ‘Queensbury Welcome Center’ across the top of the building. I got out and took a deep breath. Once again I caught Matt looking at me as though waiting for me to collapse at any second. I made a face at him.

  I followed Matt into the air-conditioned welcome center. I didn’t expect him to stick around and, sure enough, a group of science looking kids picked him up and led him away without a second glance. Bye, I guess.

  A bubbly blond girl materialized next to me almost as fast as Matt had left. “You must be new!” she said cheerfully. I looked around to make sure she wasn’t talking to somebody else. A five-year-old, maybe.

  “That’s…why I’m in the welcome center,” I said. The girl beamed and grabbed my arm. “I’m here to give you the tour. Put your bags in the cart over there and tell the driver which dorm you’re staying at. He’ll get them there.”

  “What if I don’t know which dorm?”

  “You’re a freshman, right? Freshman stay in McMinn Hall. Hurry up, everybody else is ready.” I spotted a group of parents and students huddled around the exit door. I put my bags away and followed blondie to the group.

  Every kid had parents with them. Was that normal? I thought college was when the students left their parents and struck out on their own. At least that’s what I was doing. Either way, it felt weird being the only kid who wasn’t with an adult. For the first time since I had left I felt a small twinge of loneliness. What were my parents doing right now? The villagers would be out fishing and the market would be in full swing. I could envision my parents and Sonam talking and laughing together like they usually did. I wanted to speak to them so badly, just to hear their voices, but they were there and I was here. I took a deep breath. No point in worrying about it now. I would make the best of it.

  I followed the group out the door and blondie started spewing off facts about the school.

  “I’m so glad you’re all here for move-in day and thank you so much for making Queensbury the gateway to your future! Queensbury University was obviously named after the city of Queensbury, the oldest city settled in this area. There’s a wide range of majors here—”

  I zoned out after a little while. She was practically a human version of the pamphlet I’d read about the school. We were all moving in so she didn’t need to sell us on it again.

  The narrow walkway opened to a wide lawn. Classical architecture was the décor of choice for most of the buildings. The campus was way bigger than I thought it would be. It took us ten minutes to cross what I think was half of the school, but we still passed four gyms, five dining halls, three dorms, and probably two buildings where you actually learned things.

  “Stop!” Blondie shrieked, jolting me out of my comatose state.

  She sprinted over and shoved me onto the sidewalk. She pointed to my right foot, which had apparently been stepping on the grass.

  “The biggest rule here is we never, ever step on the grass. Many years ago the school’s founder’s remains were lost somewhere on campus and it wasn’t until 1989 that they were found and reburied there.” She pointed to a white headstone set in the center of the park beside us. “We never walk on the grass for fear of treading on him.”

  “But you just said his remains are right there,” I said. “We can see him.” I made to step on the grass again but Blondie pushed me back and flashed another blindingly white smile.

  “It’s tradition.”

  “Even if it’s stupid?”

  Blondie’s smile faltered but somebody behind me snorted. “Stay off the grass.” She brushed her hair back and returned to the front of the group. I made a mental note to step on the grass as much as possible when people weren’t looking as a form of rebellion.

  “It is pretty stupid,” a boy said. “But then, what’s the fun of traditions if they were rational?” I turned to see who was speaking, tagging a little ways behind the group like me. He was unhealthily slender and a little hunched, sporting a buzz cut and a single stud in his ear. His jeans were in tatters like he had rolled in barbed wire with them.

  “I guess that’s what they do, though. Brainwash you into loving the school.” He extended a bony hand. I took it. His grip was firm despite his skinniness. “Cody John Brown. But my friends call me Cody.” He smiled to show that it was a joke, then took a quick glance around me. “You don’t have your folks with you?”

  “They couldn’t make it,” I said.

  Cody nodded agreeably. “That’s not so bad. Makes the transition easier. My mom and dad are over there.” He thumbed towards an older man and woman who looked like marathon runners. “Love ‘em to death but they need to give me some space, you know?”

  “Yeah.”

  We walked a bit farther. We passed another dining hall and Blondie again catapulted into a lecture about how healthy their food was. Cody rolled his eyes, which I assumed meant she was lying.

  “Cheeseburger’s probably the healthiest thing they have in there,” he said.

  “A what?” The summer American missionaries had never mentioned anything like that.

  “A cheeseburger? Probably the health—”

  “No, I mean what’s a cheeseburger?”

  Cody shot me an incredulous look. “Dude, what planet are you from?”

  “Bhutan. I just arrived in America today.”

  Cody’s eyebrows rose. “No way! I have no idea where that is, but cool! So you don’t really know what anything is? Is this weird?” He pulled out his cell pho
ne and shoved the screen up to my face. What was with these kids and acting like I was some exotic animal?

  “Shockingly, I have seen a cell phone,” I said. “I’m not that out of touch.” This set Cody off on an exciting game of What’s New to Drake? He wasn’t being mean but after a little while he got the clue I wasn’t interested in playing. He turned his attention back to the tour, which had just stopped on the outskirts of campus in front of an onyx colored building rising above everything around it. It was so sleek and refined that it reminded me of a rocket pointed towards space.

  We began to walk away from it, but Cody nudged me and nodded towards the rocket-shaped building.

  “You want to take a closer look?”

  “Shouldn’t we stay with the tour?”

  Cody started walking the opposite direction. “They’ll be at the dorms eventually and we can catch up with them there.” When I still seemed unsure he said, “College is about breaking away from parents. This is as good a time as any.”

  He had a point. Together we headed for the front doors.

  Before we got there, they slid open and a girl about our age and an older man came out. They looked like they were just finishing up a conversation.

  “Thanks for looking over it, Mr. Carlyle,” the girl said. “I’ll turn it in—” She noticed us standing there and smiled widely.

  “Hello! Can I help you two?”

  “We were just looking,” I said, pointing to the building.

  “Are you part of the program?”

  “Nope,” I said.

  “Uh…” Cody said.

  “Hold on,” the girl suddenly said, pointing at Cody. “You’re Cody John Brown. I remember your picture from when we were reviewing applications.” She offered a hand and Cody and I both shook it. “Melanie Marks. And this…” she motioned to the man beside her who stepped forward. Though he was smiling, his squashed bulldog-like face gave nothing away. It was as languid as a deep, dark lake. He could have hid anything behind that expression.