Phantasos (21 page)

Thirty-Nine

WHEN THE SUN HAD RISEN, BENJI had barely slept a wink. He’d sat with Lauren for a short while, watching the folks crowded on Shady Reach return to their homes as the emergency vehicles vanished, before her father stepped outside to ask her back in.

When he’d gone home, his parents asked what all the commotion was about, and he very plainly said: “Rodney Frye is dead.” When they asked how, he said: “He hung himself.”

And that was that. Neither said much to the other. He vaguely remembered his mother saying “Oh, Jesus,” while she tightened the belt on her bathrobe. Benji was halfway up the stairs before his father said, “Do you want to talk about it, son?” But Benji just ignored him and went back to bed, where he tossed and turn, eyes open, until the tweets and chirps of birds began to shrill from outside his window.

Benji knew that something had changed him, deep down, at the level of his DNA—an irreversible change that would follow him forever. Whether or not playing Phantasos caused Rodney to kill himself was irrelevant. Benji had
wished
Rodney dead, then was (surprisingly) granted that wish. Benji quickly realized he was not at all prepared for how to deal with that.

He felt like a murderer, a cruel monster. In his entire life, he’d never so much as tossed salt on a slug or held a magnifying glass above a hill of ants. In an instant, his entire set of values and outlook on the world had been turned upside down.

What would Alley think?

When Benji came downstairs for breakfast, his mother immediately commented on his disheveled appearance.

“You look terrible, Ben.”

“I feel terrible.”

“Is it because of Rodney?”

“Yeah.”

“There must be an awful lot of confusing emotions circling your mind right now. And if it’s any consolation, your father and I have to deal with them, too. There’s not a single person in this town who won’t be juggling the same thoughts.”

Benji picked at an over-cooked piece of bacon.

“So I’ll just say it,” his mother continued. “It’s okay to feel bad for what happened to Rodney. And it’s okay to not feel bad, too. There’s no right or wrong with it, okay? We all know how close you were to Alley. We were close to him too. He was always welcome here. He was the brother you never had.”

Benji dropped the piece of bacon and mumbled, “Thanks.”

“That young man in North Grand Ridge the other week, and then Alley, and now with what’s happened to Rodney…this town hasn’t had this much disaster in as long as I can remember. It can be overwhelming for a kid your age. So if you ever have to talk to me, talk to me, okay? Your father, too.”

His mom leaned down and kissed Benji on the top of the head.

“I have to hurry into work. Take care of yourself, Ben. It’s summer for crying out loud. Sleep on the couch all day. Watch TV. Take a bike ride with Lauren. Do everything, or do nothing. But just don’t get too lost in all of this…all of this tragedy. Okay?”

Benji smiled—a genuine smile—and said: “Thanks, mom.”

His mother grinned, grabbed her keys from the kitchen counter, and rushed out of the back door.

He pushed his spoon through a sea of soggy Rice Krispy’s—and for a brief moment, nearly fell asleep where he sat at the table—when his dad walked into the kitchen from the garage, sweaty, hands covered in grease.

“Your mother left for work?” he asked, wiping his hands with a dishtowel.

“Just a minute ago—didn’t you see her leave?”

“No, I was busy monkeying with the damn lawn mower again.”

“It’s still not working?”

“I wouldn’t be working on it if it was, would I?”

“I guess not.”

“After you finish your breakfast, maybe you wouldn’t mind giving me a hand with it. I could use your help.”

Benji took a bite of his cereal, looked down at the table and shrugged.

“You look like hell, Ben. Did you sleep at all last night?”

“Not really.”

“You’re that torn up over Rodney Frye, huh?”

“I think…I think that it’s more complicated than that.”

“Huh.”

His father opened the fridge, took out a carton of milk, and guzzled it straight from the container.

The phone on the kitchen wall rang.

“I’ll get it,” Benji said.

His father motioned for him to stay in his seat. “That’s okay, I’ve got it—”

But, Benji had already stood up and turned around to grab the ringing phone. He was the one closest to it, anyways.

“Bauer residence.”

“Hey, Ben—listen, I know I said I’d give you the week off, with all that’s going on and whatnot. But, Rick went home early with a stomach bug. Do you think you could bike on down to the shop? I could really use the extra pair of hands. If it helps, I’ll buy us lunch.”

“D—dad?”

“Yeah? Are you there?”

Benji cupped his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone and turned around. The kitchen was empty.

“Ben?”

“Y—yeah,” Benji said into the phone. “Weren’t you just here?”

“Benji, I’ve been at the shop since six this morning.”

“You were just working on the lawn mower.”

His father laughed on the phone. “What are you going on about, Ben?”

Benji shook his head. “I’m coming right now.”

“Great.”

Forty

DANNY AND AARON UNLOCKED THE FRONT door of Planet X. If they committed to their plan, it would be the last time they’d ever walk through the front doors of their arcade ever again.

Danny walked in first, stuffed his hands into his pockets, and let out a long, defeated sigh. When Todd and he had first opened the arcade, it was a dream come true. He wouldn’t have guessed in a million years that this would be how their adventure ended. It was hard to imagine that he would never again see his establishment lit up by the early afternoon light.

“Getting cold feet?” Aaron said.

“You could say that.”

Aaron patted Danny on the shoulder. “It’s going to be all right.”

Danny took his hands out of his pocket and crossed his arms. “It’s only two more weeks before Vidtronix comes back to pick up the machine. Maybe we should just wait this whole thing out.”

“If that’s what you want to do, buddy. I’ll support it.”

“There’d still be the matter of the crushing debt.”

“Yes, there would be.”

“I don’t know. Are you comfortable with everything? Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Ninety-nine percent sure. But for a hundred grand, it’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

Danny shrugged.

Aaron said, “There’s still time to think about it. It’s your arcade, man. It’s okay to back out if you wanna.”

“Thanks, Aaron.”

Aaron nodded, walked to the front of the arcade, and started to power on the machines for the day. When he got to the wall nearest to the prize counter, he turned on the arcade’s single television.

In the center of the screen was a news reporter, and above her left shoulder was a square cut out in the screen. In the center of the square was a picture of a very familiar customer at the arcade.

Danny squinted at the television screen.

It was Rodney Frye.

“Oh, no, oh come on,” Danny shouted.

Aaron, who was using some glass cleaner and a paper towel to clean where some kid sneezed on the Pac-Man screen, turned around. “What’s wrong?”

Danny pulled a drawer open from beneath the cash register at the prize counter. Inside was a chunky black remote. He held the remote up, pointed it at the television, and clicked a few times until the volume rose loudly. Then, he tossed the remote back in the drawer. He pointed at the screen and said, “Look at him.”

“What am I looking at?”

“That kid, look at him. Does he look familiar?”

“Yeah, I guess. He was in the arcade yesterday?”

“He was. He played Phantasos. He played it, and then one of my regulars played it.”

“Oh, shit,” Aaron said, and he wanted to cover his ears. He didn’t even want to listen.

“This just in,” the news reporter on the television screen began. “Rodney Frye, a fifteen year old boy from Grand Ridge, was found deceased last night by his mother and step-father. Authorities haven’t released any details about the boy’s death. You may remember that we reported on Frye just over a week ago, when he was charged with vehicular manslaughter in the death of Alec Emerson. Prosecutors dropped the charges against Frye after a lengthy investigation into the crash. For more information as it becomes available, stay tuned to WKYV—”

“Can you believe this?” Danny said. “I mean—can you believe this?”

“It’s hard to,” Aaron said.

“We have to go to the police. We have to tell them what’s been going on. It’s much too big to be a coincidence.”

“Danny,” Aaron said. “If you go to the police with this, they will lock you in a padded cell.”

“People have to know, Aaron—they have to know!”

“Who would listen?”

Danny threw his hands in the air. “So, what? We just do nothing?”

“We’re not standing by idly, Danny. We’re doing our part.” Aaron nodded towards the machine. “Tonight. Still have any doubts?”

“You bet your ass I don’t have any doubts,” Danny said, and he slammed a fist so hard on the prize counter he thought the glass might crack. “Tonight—we’re doing it.”

Forty-One

IT WAS HARD DAY OF WORK—damn hard work—harder than Benji could ever remember. In past times that he helped around his father’s shop, he was typically charged with doing menial tasks.

But the older, stronger Benji was saddled with more laborious duties in his father’s shop than he ever had been before. Heavy machinery was moved. Parts were carried to and fro. And the heat of it all—there was no relief. Two broken fans on either side of the garage creaked and blew warm, muggy air, but did little to cool the workers.

It was warmer inside the shop than it was outside.

When the day was finished, Benji’s father tossed his bike in the back of his pickup and drove the two home.

“You did good today, Ben. I’m proud of you.”

Benji let out a soft sigh. “Honestly, it was nice to get out of the house.”

“Yeah? Well. I know it hasn’t been easy lately. How are you holding up, champ?”

“I’m doing okay.”

“What was it this morning you said—something about seeing me at home?”

“It’s nothing,” Benji said. “I was overtired. I was imagining things.”

“You’ll sleep like a log tonight, I guarantee it.”

“I hope so.”

The pickup was approaching a Dairy Queen on the corner of Shady Reach and Little Hollow.

Benji’s father said, “Milkshake? My treat.”

Benji smiled. “That sounds great, dad.”

When he was home for the night, Benji crawled up to his bedroom. He had never felt so exhausted in his life. He certainly had a better appreciation of all his father went through on any given day.

He climbed onto his bed, a belly full of warm dinner, his eyelids barely able to stay open. Through his window he watched the sun sink lower and lower on the horizon, descending through pastel layers of pink, and purple, and blue.

There had been no other incidents since the morning, when he swore he was standing in the kitchen with his father. But that could easily be attributed to a waking dream—he was so tired, after all. And that was
hours
ago. Benji knew he wouldn’t be awake much longer.

He blinked and looked across the street at Alley’s bedroom. Dark. Quiet. Undisturbed. He hadn’t seen anyone in there since the accident, and didn’t expect to see anyone in there ever again, which is why it was so surprising when Alley’s bedroom light switched on.

Benji leaned up and squinted. Across the street, in Alley’s room, was Lauren. She stood, framed by the window, in a baseball t-shirt and shorts. She let her hair down and smiled, and it looked like she was talking to someone. There must have been someone else in the room.

He approached his window and waited. Behind her, sitting on the foot of Alley’s bed, was an unfamiliar face. Whoever it was, he was tall and very handsome. Probably Benji’s age, maybe a little older. Maybe he was from another school? Benji had never seen him before.

The stranger said something, smiled, and Lauren laughed. He stood up from the foot of the bed, walked behind her, and rested his head between her shoulder and her neck.

Benji didn’t understand what was going on. Lauren had never mentioned this other boy before—what was happening?

Unable to control himself, Benji continued to watch. The boy in Alley’s room tugged at the shoulder of Lauren’s shirt, so far that it revealed a bra-strap. A rush of jealousy and anger surged through Benji’s body.

Half awake, a zombie, he ran out of his room and down the stairs. He passed his parents, who couldn’t get a word out edgewise before the backdoor slammed behind him.

Benji ran across the street and pounded on the Emerson’s front door. In an instant, Mr. Emerson appeared in the doorway.

“Benji—everything okay?”

Benji was panting. “There’s someone in Alley’s room right now, with Lauren.”

“What are you talking about?”

“They’re up there, I could see them from my room.”

Mr. Emerson smiled. “Ben—that’s highly unlikely.”

“You have to check.”

“I’ve been here all night, Ben.” Mr. Emerson studied the dark circles under Benji’s eyes. “You should get some rest, son.”

“Please,” Benji said, and he tried to look over Mr. Emerson’s shoulder. For a moment he swore—he would swear on
anything
—that he watched Alley walk from the living room to the kitchen.

“Get home, Ben,” Mr. Emerson said, and he started to close the door before a minivan parked in the Emerson’s driveway.

Benji spun around. Mrs. Emerson was driving; Lauren was in the passenger seat. Lauren hopped out of the van and called out, “Dad? Benji? What’s going on?”

Mr. Emerson grinned and told Benji for the final time to get home and get some sleep.

Benji slumped off of the Emerson’s porch towards home, before Lauren caught him by the shoulder.

“Benji? You look like hell.”

Benji licked his lips, looked up and said, “It’s happening. It’s happening to me.”

“What is?” Lauren said, but her parents were already calling her into the house.

“What happened to Alley…now I know it’s happening to me, too.”

“Benji—” Lauren said, but her parents were demanding that she help set the table for dinner. “I’ll call you later, okay? Go home. Relax. You look like you need it.”

Benji walked through the back door of his house. His parents were waiting for him at the kitchen table.

“We need to talk,” his father said.

“About what?”

“About the way you run out of this house without ever telling us where you’re going. It’s not going to happen again, Ben. You understand that?”

“Yes, sir.”

His mother sat beside his father, looking on disapprovingly.

“And another thing,” his father added. “I just had a very interesting phone call from Bill Emerson. Anything you’d like to mention?”

“No.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Benji’s father said. “Lauren’s dad seemed a little surprised that you were just at his house, yelling at him that Lauren and a boy were in Alley’s old room. The only problem with that being Lauren was grocery shopping with her mom just before you showed up. Care to explain?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

“Really, you wouldn’t.” Benji wanted to collapse, wanted to sink into the kitchen floorboards.

“You need some space for a while, Ben. I know how good of a friend Alley was to you, and I know how close you and Lauren are. But it’s in everyone’s best interest if you take a breather for a few days, okay? There’s been a lot of tiring and trying events these past couple of weeks. Everyone needs some time to cope and heal. Got it?”

“Yes, sir,” Benji said.

“Good. Go to bed. And no video games, I mean it—get some rest.”

Benji lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, praying for sleep. But sleep refused to come. Instead, his mind tossed through thoughts of Alley and Rodney for what felt like hours.

After an eternity, Benji at last slipped into slumber. But his dreams were dark and twisted and awful.

He found himself standing in a hospital room. The floor was covered in a thick, milky fog. In the rear corner of the room was a massive oak tree, inexplicably growing out of the tiles and up into the ceiling.

In the middle of the room, on a gurney, was Alley. Alley was cold, and pale, and motionless. Eyes closed.

Hanging from the tree beside the gurney was Rodney Frye. Rodney swayed back and forth slowly, the tree branch creaking and groaning as he swung.

Alley’s eyelids shot open, revealing two dark recesses.

“You promised you’d never play the game, Benji. You promised me.”

Benji said, “I’m sorry, Alley. I’m so sorry I let you down.”

Rodney’s eyes opened, too. Again there were black, bottomless pits where eyes should be. Rodney grunted and said, “Good job, Bauer. Fine mess you got us all into.”

Alley interrupted, “Are you happy, Benji?”

Benji shook his head. “No.”

“So you understand then?”

“Understand what?”

Alley’s gaze shifted from Benji to the right of Benji’s shoulder. “She’s right beside you, Ben.”

“What?”

“She’s right beside you.”

Hanging from his branch, Rodney started to laugh. “She’s right beside you, Bauer. Hah!”

Benji sat up in bed, wheezing uncontrollably, relieved to be freed from the damn nightmare.

He let his eyes readjust to the dark room, and turned to check his clock. Just after eleven. Before he rested his head back down on his pillow, he saw her. A silhouette, hovering in the corner of his room.

Danny had locked the front door of the arcade. He was pacing in circles. “Are we good?”

“A few more adjustments,” Aaron said. He unplugged Phantasos from its power strip. Since it was after business hours, the fact that it turned off shouldn’t have alerted Vidtronix. But Aaron was still so weary around it, as if at any moment the machine might grow a pair of arms and club him for tinkering around.

Danny said, “I’m nervous.”

“So am I.”

“Will this work?”

“It should.”

Aaron carefully swapped the power strip behind Phantasos with a new one. The new strip had been masterfully tampered with in the days leading up to their planned arson. Aaron had cautiously removed the circuit breaker in the strip; after that, he modified the wiring within so that power in the strip would be mismanaged and surge.

Phantasos should only draw power for two or three minutes before the overwhelming electricity consumption would cause devastating problems.

“I did it,” Aaron said, and he stood up triumphantly.

“So now what?”

“Now we get the hell out of—”

The lights in the arcade flickered, then went off.

“Shit,” Aaron said.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“That’s no good. The circuit breaker tripped.”

“That’s bad?”

“That’s very bad. If it trips, the power won’t surge. If the power doesn’t surge, we get nothing.”

Benji wanted to scream, but he could not. He opened his mouth—nothing. Wiggled his tongue—nothing. The air was escaping, he was
breathing,
but no sound would leave.

Gracefully, silently, she floated over. She was as beautiful as she was terrifying. She gently landed at the end of Benji’s bed, then patted his foot.

“You know what’s next,” she said.

Benji shook his head.

“No…no. Don’t play coy, child. You’re a clever one. Clever enough to call upon my services, so that I’d dispose of that little runt Rodney.”

Benji whimpered. Downstairs, he could hear Carson’s monologue playing in the living room. His parents were so
close.
If one of them could just come up and check on him—

“How clever did you think you were, boy, when you looked into my machine and closed your eyes? Were you certain I’d spare you? Did you think you’d found some hidden loophole?” The ethereal girl smiled.

“I just…I…I just—”

“Let your emotions get the best of you? I know. I watch. I’m a watcher—I’ve been doing it for a very long time, and I’m good at it. I watch people so that I know what makes them truly vulnerable. And in that moment at the arcade, you were so very vulnerable. Little Benji. You were so focused on your revenge that you’d forgotten a sacred promise you had made to your one true friend.” She smiled, then scoffed. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t admire it.”

“Just…go. Please.”

The girl shook her head slowly and clicked her tongue. “If I left now, that wouldn’t be very fair to Rodney, or to Alley, or to Todd…would it?”

“I didn’t even play the game!”

“It doesn’t matter!” She said, and she slammed her hand on the foot of the bed. Angry. “You knew very well what could happen to you the moment you sunk your quarters into Phantasos. And you didn’t care! You didn’t care because you’d convinced Rodney to play, and you felt like you had won.” She bit her bottom lip almost seductively, then slid closer to him on the bed.

“Tell me, Benji. Do you still feel like you’ve won?”

“I wish I hadn’t done it. I regretted it the moment that Rodney played! If I could go back and change it, I would.”

She crawled towards the head of the bed, where Benji lay frozen in terror. She glided her fingers softly across his cheek. “You look so tired, Benji. Everyone noticed how tired you were today, too. Didn’t they?”

“I just want to sleep.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” she said, and inexplicably Benji could hear the sound of the bathtub faucet beginning to run in the upstairs bathroom.

Aaron fiddled with his toolbox in the dark. He pulled out a flashlight, a pair of pliers, and a screwdriver.