Authors: Sean Fletcher
I Am Phantom
I AM PHANTOM
Sean Fletcher
The
setting, characters and story used in this book are completely fictitious and
come from the author’s imagination. Any similarity to real persons, living or
dead, is coincidental and are not intended by the author.
© 2015 Sean Fletcher
All rights reserved
First edition published July 2015
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner
without written permission of the author, except in the context of reviews.
Cover Design: Audrey Mackaman
To
my mom, for her eagle editing eye.
To
my dad, who doesn’t read fiction, but always reads mine
To
my brother, who did absolutely nothing on this book, but never lets me take my
serious writing too seriously. Seriously
To
all the phantoms behind the scenes who made this book the best it could be
And
to everyone who didn’t get a dedication, cool your jets. I’ve got more books to
write. Chocolate might help, too. Just saying
Table
of Contents
Chapter
Five- Of Monsters and Me
Chapter
Eight- Reflections of the Past
Chapter
Nine- Trains, and Other Things that Go Off Track
Chapter
Eleven- Christmas Break
Chapter Twelve- The Story of Sykes
Chapter
Thirteen- Tightening the Noose
Chapter
Fifteen- Phantom’s Fall
Part
1
Rising Shadow
Leaving
the Nest
My day really began when I jumped off the
cliff.
To
set the record straight, it wasn’t
my
idea.
I
just happened to be out on a morning trail run, some sheer cliffs to my left, when
the cart ahead of me busted a wheel and threw the driver over the edge. Without
thinking, I leapt after him. With one hand I grabbed him in midair and with the
other dug my fingers into the side of the rock wall to stop our fall. He would
definitely die if I let go. So, like anybody else would’ve done, I gripped him
tighter.
The
wind pounded me against the cliff and I heard the man yell in fright. I had no
fear of heights. I climbed without safety equipment all the time, but there was
still a thousand feet of air between me and
ker-splatting
on the canyon floor.
Just
another day for me in Bhutan.
I
readjusted my hold on his arm and gently tossed him the twenty or so feet back
to the top. To any normal person that may have seemed amazing.
But
I wasn’t normal.
I
heard gravel crunch as the man scrambled away from the edge and back to his
family.
One
of the rocks I held crumbled and I slid farther down the cliff. The monastery
bells in town rang.
Crap.
I was so late.
My
foot caught the lip of a rock. I braced myself, and in one move leapt straight
back up the cliff and onto the path.
The
man I saved hurriedly pushed his family away from me, muttering something in Dzongkha,
the main language in Bhutan. I didn’t need to hear him to guess what he was
saying. They all said the same thing behind my back: Monster. Demon. Phantom.
My
life for the past four years.
They
were fine now, so I continued running down the narrow rocky path. I vaulted
over a boulder and leapt across a small ravine, ignoring the perfectly good footpath
just beside me. Some called it Parkour. Free running. Finding the most
efficient way to move, envisioning new ways to use space. Fun, I called it.
For
those not geographically inclined, Bhutan’s a country stuck right below Tibet.
I’m not originally from Bhutan. I’m far too white for that. And tall. And my
hair is too curly, even for me.
My
parents met in the UK, moved to America, had yours truly, Drake Sinclair, and
then promptly moved to Bhutan for missionary work. That was eighteen years ago.
If you ask me, I don’t belong anywhere. The only ‘friends’ I have are the
summer missionary kids from America who leave before school starts, and the
only reason they’re my friends is because they don’t know me well enough to know
I’m a freak and don’t know the local dialect so they can’t hear what the
villagers say behind my back. I’m culturally cut off, lacking in the friends
department, speak two languages and don’t have much of an accent, which sucks
because I heard girls love accents.
But
the worst thing was some people’s fear of me. And frankly, sometimes I was
scared too.
When I was fourteen…things started
happening. And I don’t mean puberty, geez. No, something far stranger. And
having gone through puberty that’s saying a lot.
One
day I woke up and my world had changed. My vision was sharper, colors more
vibrant than they’d ever been before. Walking had almost become difficult
because my muscles were so strong. I could leap farther, jump higher, move
things that normal humans would find impossible. And my speed…that was probably
the main reason everyone was so afraid. It must have been unnerving seeing only
a blur and then having me appear by their side. By the time I learned to keep
that in check it was too late, and some of the people in the town we lived near
had already grown fearful. That’s when they began calling me a spirit…a
phantom.
Had
I questioned why I had my abilities? Heck yes. Who wouldn’t? My parents didn’t
have them. What time I’d had on the Internet hadn’t come up with anything
either. So I had been forced to sit and come up with explanations on my own.
Which led me from thinking I was adopted, to some kind of alien. Really
encouraging stuff for a fourteen-year-old who’s trying to figure out hormonal
changes without freaking out the general populace with his crazy powers he can
barely control. Maybe there was something in the water. Or the air. The village
I lived in was a little more secluded than others, but then, nobody else had
anything like this.
I
probably would have continued coming up with crazy theories if the note hadn’t
arrived.
The
cliffs I wasn’t supposed to be running beside (sorry Mom and Dad) faded away
and dense trees and a dusty led the way to the town and the monastery.
I
hurtled through the open-air market, deftly dodging stalls and tossed fruit, sliding
between carts scraping by each other in the street. A few vendors shot me
furtive glances but I avoided them, as they did me. A couple of men in front of
me stepped way out of their way to go around. I tried to ignore them too.
My
parents waited outside the monastery doors. My mom had one of her finer dresses
on. She looked very pretty with her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. There
weren’t many events to wear nice clothes for so she was making the most of my
“graduation”.
My
stocky dad had not dressed up. The work shirt he wore when he helped the
villagers showed off his muscles and tan.
I
easily caught my breath but continued panting to make it seem like I was
winded. When all of the weirdness first started happening I tried talking with
my parents, but they chalked it up to “My body’s natural changes” and left it
at that. When I subtly hinted that maybe being able to jump ten feet straight
up wasn’t how normal kids went through puberty, they only seemed more confused.
They loved me, but I hadn’t brought it up since, choosing instead to disguise
any instances of abnormality.
“Being
late isn’t the best first impression for your final test,” my dad said,
clapping a meaty hand on my shoulder. But he was smiling, sadly though. My mom
was too.
“Are
you ready?” she asked. I rolled my eyes.
“It’s
not like it’s an official thing,” I said. “It was Sonam’s idea for a going away
test, not mine.”
“It’s
symbolic, Drake, and very important to Sonam. Remember to thank him.”
“Yeah,
I know.”
They
both hugged me, my dad holding on a little longer than necessary (how would he
cope with tomorrow when I left for school?) and I walked past them, through the
doors and into the monastery courtyard.
Memories
hit me. I had run through, laughed in, played around this place a hundred times
before. Now it would be the last time for a long while. Maybe forever.
Sonam,
the head monk and our family’s closest friend, stood waiting in the middle. I
removed my shoes and stepped across the cold cobblestones. The courtyard was so
quiet I could hear the muffled pad of my bare feet off the high, discolored
walls and rosy red doors leading to the rest of the monastery. Nothing seemed
quite as big as it once had. Even still, the mystery and wonder was not quite
gone. It just waited for me elsewhere. I saw a couple of the younger monks
poking their shaved heads out from the windows.
I
stepped in front of Sonam and bowed. He returned it, brushing aside his deep
red monk’s robe as he stood again.
“Barely
late, as usual, Drake.”
“Consistency
is my best quality,” I said.
Sonam’s
worn lines on his face crinkled into a smile that seemed to light up his whole
body. He hugged me and I awkwardly returned it. It wasn’t that I minded hugging
him—he was like a second father to me—but because I was so much
taller than him I had to stoop way over. Sonam took a step back. He beckoned me
with one robed arm. “Come, walk with me. We will talk before your test.”
I
slowed my long strides to match his. Sonam held his arms out in front. I snuck
a glance at him. His eyes were closed.
The
urge to fidget tempted me. “So the test…”
“Eighteen years, Drake. That’s when your parents arrived. And not too
long after a hyperactive child burst into our courtyard and demanded that he,
too, be allowed to learn the art of Shaolin Kung Fu.”
My
face grew hot. Sonam had a lovely way of embarrassing me without trying. He was
almost as good as my mom.
“Ah…such
enthusiasm. Now we are on your final test. But I feel that this test, though
only ceremonial, is not the greatest press on your mind.”
“No,”
I admitted.
“They’re
letting you go?”
“They
were never going to stop me. They were only concerned.”
“As
is natural. You are their only son. College in America is a big step. Are you
as worried as they are?”
“Pssh!
No way! It’s not a big deal. Really.”
Sonam
didn’t even have to look at me to make me feel silly. I ran my hand along the
wall we walked beside. Each brick was solid and stable. Each brick had its
place. I did not.
“I
need to go,” I said. Sonam finally opened his eyes.
“Why
is that?”
My
hand dropped to my side. “I don’t know, Sonam. It’s like…not that I don’t fit
in here, this place is my home, and yet it’s not. These are my people, and yet
they’re not. I need to find something that’s me. Or at least try to find out
where I should be. Make something for myself.”
Sonam
eyed me. I suspected he had noticed the way the villagers and children in the
monastery had started acting around me. But it was Sonam. He didn’t care about
any of that. Outcast or not, I was still Drake Sinclair to him. “You’re
eighteen. Of course you feel that way. You are closer to your parents than many
children. Now you learn to leave.” I frowned at him.
“Would
it kill you to not talk so sagely all the time?”
“Yes,”
Sonam said.
I
shrugged. “Anyway, there’s that. I’m excited. And nervous.”
“What
have you decided to study?”
“Psychology,”
I said. “At Queensbury University in North Carolina.”
Sonam
laughed warmly. The monks were the few people I knew that could laugh and truly
look and sound like it was the funniest thing in the universe. He readjusted
his sleeve.
“A
subject of the mind. Wherever did you get your interest for that? Surely not
our teachings?”
“Could
have been,” I said, laughing with him.
We
turned at the next wall, almost completing our circle around the courtyard.
Sonam
spoke again, and this time his tone had suddenly dulled.
“You
are wise to seek knowledge, for knowledge leads to wisdom and wisdom is the
source of goodness.” He paused for a heavy beat. “But all your life you have
lived in Bhutan and though you have learned many things, you still have much to
learn. There is darkness in the world, and hate. Many things we try to remove
ourselves from here.”
Yeah,
I’d only ever lived in Bhutan, yeah you could even call me
sheltered
, but I wasn’t blind and I wasn’t stupid. I knew how the
world worked.
Besides,
how much more could Sonam know than me? He’d spent most of his life living in
one monastery.
I
opened my mouth to say that, but Sonam spoke again.
“It
is not the change I worry about, for change is a part of life.” At this he
turned and looked right at me. “Your morals are strong, and though you stumble
as we all do, your intentions are good. Not everyone is like that. Not everyone
views the gift of life as you do. Are you ready to be tested?”
I
wasn’t sure if he was talking about the Kung Fu test or…college? School tests?
How was meeting people unlike me a test?
“I’m
ready,” I said. “It’s all a part of moving away, right? All this learning and
defining who I am and whatnot. No worries, I’ll get it.”
Sonam
didn’t stop looking at me for a little while, in that gentle, kind way he
always did. Then he returned to the center of the courtyard. I followed.
“Ready?”
I
crouched in my first stance.
“Start
with your basic forms,” Sonam said.
I
flowed into the movements that were second nature to me. That had been at least
one perk of my…gifts. One morning I woke up and had mastered Kung Fu. Beginning
moves or advanced, it didn’t matter. I could do all of them flawlessly. Not a
bad side effect.
Tiger,
Crane, Dragon, Mantis, knife strike, cannon punch, smashing punch.
Sonam
circled around me as I moved. He made no sound except to call out a new form or
pose for me to perform. Minutes passed. I wasn’t tired at all.
“Stop,”
Sonam said. I curled my arms in and returned to the start. Sonam turned to face
me.
I
held my breath for what he would say. His head was down, his eyes closed.
Finally, he looked me in the eye.