Phantasos (8 page)

Suddenly he felt warm, peaceful, and the most at ease he’d been in days, and he knew that—somehow, someway—everything was going to be all right after all.

The train whistle blew one last time before colliding into the Fiero—Seventy-Five Miles Per Hour, the police reports would later say—and it crashed through the small coupe mercilessly. In an instant the vehicle transformed from car to cloud of dust, and one billion tiny fragments of steel, and tire, and glass, and blood, and bone, exploded away from the front of the speeding locomotive in one billion different directions.

Fourteen

BENJI PEDALED FURIOUSLY TO BEAT THE RAIN. Alley stood behind him, on the rear tire pegs of the bike, holding on to Benji’s shoulders and cheering. Lauren, as usual, was a few yards ahead, her long wavy hair breezing back beneath her helmet, the purple streamers on her handlebars sparkling and dancing as she rode. She had always mocked them—called them “stupid” and “for little girls”—but Benji had just then noticed that she never cut them off, even though removing them would be as simple as a scissor snip.

Benji hollered, “Can you go any faster?”

“If you want me to,” Lauren said.

“I was being sarcastic. Slow down.”

“I don’t want to get caught in the rain.”

Lauren turned off of Shady Reach and on to Little Hollow, the main street through downtown Grand Ridge. Benji followed not too far behind, the muscles in his legs burning.

“Go faster, you’re losing her,” Alley said, and Benji rolled his eyes.

Lauren stopped pedaling and came to a quick stop on the southeast corner of Little Hollow and Shady Reach. A fire truck went screaming by in the northbound lane, immediately followed by an ambulance, and yet another fire truck, all howling furiously. There was a brief respite from the blaring sirens, then no less than a half dozen police cars came bolting up Little Hollow in the same direction as the ambulance and fire trucks. Another short pause, then one more fire truck, and the parade of frantic emergency vehicles was over. The clouds of flashing lights disappeared up Little Hollow in the direction of North Grand Ridge.

“Cheese and rice,” Alley said. Lauren hated that expression, a by-product of her mother always scolding them for “taking the Lord’s name in vain.”

“I hope everyone’s okay,” Benji said, and Lauren hated that expression, too.

“Obviously someone is not okay,” Lauren said. “Someone is clearly not
okay
, did you not just see how many policemen, and firemen, and paramedics blew by us?”

Benji bit his tongue. He was just making a simple comment. But, there was no point to arguing; he knew how much the sight of ambulances and first responders upset Lauren, because they made her think of Alley. They reminded her of all the times Alley had been whisked away from home, in the middle of the night, under a relentless stream of horns and sirens. They reminded her of hospitals, and worst of all, they reminded her of Alley’s fragility.

“Come on,” Lauren said, noticing Benji’s vacant stare, and she suddenly felt guilty for her burst of sarcasm. “We’re almost there. We’ll beat the rain.”

Benji would later reflect on the morning after Alley’s birthday party, and all of the ominous signs that the universe sometimes gives. The bad dreams the night before, the impending rain, the threat of a thunderstorm, and finally the avalanche of fire trucks and ambulances. If he were a superstitious kid, he would have pleaded that the three turned around (in the direction of the storm—some argument that would have been) or, better yet, insisted that they simply never leave the house at all.

The flipside of his internal argument was this: a life spent bundled up at home anytime one had a nightmare, or the weather outside wasn’t agreeable, wouldn’t be much of a life at all.

All of that aside, Benji would go on to really, really,
really
wish that him and his friends had never went to that miserable arcade that day.

Benji and Lauren locked their bikes into a rack just outside of the arcade and walked inside. The arcade had a particular, unmistakable stench—burnt popcorn, mildew, sawdust (depending on whether or not anyone threw up that day). Today, the sawdust smell was missing, but the unique notes of mold and spinning cotton candy were as pungent as ever.

Alley’s eyes were immediately drawn to the towering monolith in the center of the room. He had never seen it before.

“What’s that?” Alley said.

Lauren and Benji circled the machine, looking it up and down. The orange, backlit quarter panel caught Benji’s eye—particularly the stamped piece of metal beside it that read: 4x 25¢.

“It’s expensive, is what it is,” Benji said.

Danny was breezing just behind the trio and overheard their conversation.

“Yo, you three,” Danny said. “Where have you guys been?”

“Hey, Danny,” Benji said. Lauren smiled.

“I thought for sure you scamps would have been here the first night of summer vacation, or at least the first day—why the delay? Thought you all might have up and vanished.”

“My birthday party was last night,” Alley said.

“Well all right, all right,” Danny said, and he gave Alley a high-five. “Happy birthday, little dude.”

“Well, it wasn’t technically my birthday,” Alley said.

“Oh,” Danny said.

“It’s not until Saturday.”

Benji and Lauren gave Danny a look:
Don’t bother asking for an explanation.

Danny adjusted his shirt and said, “Well, happy early birthday, then, dude-a-rino.”

“What’s with this machine?” Alley said, tilting his head towards Phantasos.

“Oh. That.” The smile on Danny’s face faded. “It’s a new cabinet. The manufacturer is trying it out at a few arcades to see how the kids like it.”

“Well?” Alley said, intrigued.

“Well, what?”

“Is it worth the buck?”

“You’d have to ask Todd,” Danny said, “and he’s not in right now. He’s the only one to play it so far.”

“Get out,” Benji interrupted. “You’ve had a brand new machine during the first two days of summer, and no one has bothered to play it? Must be some game.”

“I couldn’t tell you one way or the other,” Danny said. “Personally, it gives me the creeps. Can’t figure out why. Doubt it’s giving all the kids the creeps, too; my bet is most have been avoiding it because of the dollar price tag. But I—” Danny held up a key ring, jingling it. “I can put a dollar in myself, play it, then open up the tray and take my dollar right back. And I
still
won’t play it.”

“Jeeze,” Lauren said. “Did it say something bad about your mother? Call you a name?”

“I can’t pinpoint it,” Danny said. “But I have no desire to play the thing.”

“Well, I’m sold,” Alley said, and he was already fishing around his pocket for some quarters.

“You’re not really going to play this, are you Alley?” Benji said. “You only brought four bucks. You’re gonna blow one-fourth of all your money on a single play. We’re gonna be here all afternoon, you know. At least until the storm passes.”

“What are you now, my algebra teacher?” Alley said. “I want to play it!”

Alley was, indeed, enamored with anything that glinted of new and cutting edge technology. He had been collecting magazine articles for quite some time, all of them talking about the new Nintendo coming out in a few months. Well, in a few months it’d be out in Japan; Alley would have to wait a year before it arrived stateside. They were calling it the “Super Nintendo,” and Alley loved that title—a Nintendo, just like his, only more super-er! He couldn’t wait. In the meantime, however, a brand new arcade cabinet might quench his thirst for new technology.

“Where is the monitor on this thing?” Alley asked.

Danny patted the top of the cabinet. “There isn’t one. A couple of goofy goggles come down when you’re ready to play.”

“Get
out
,” Alley said. “It’s virtual reality?” If he wasn’t completely sold before, he was now.

“I guess,” Danny said with a shrug.

“How do you pronounce the name?” Lauren asked.

Danny said, “Phantasos.”

“That’s a stupid name,” she said.

“Yeah,” Benji added. “A buck per play, and only the guy playing can see what’s going on. So, it’s not even like we can huddle around and cheer him on, or learn from his mistakes, or decide if we want to play it ourselves.”

Danny laughed. “I completely agree with you. All of this nonsense was Todd’s idea, so complain to him the next time you see him. I got a line at the prize cabinet though, so have fun, kids. Good luck.”

“Well?” Alley said, squeezing a fistful of quarters.

“Well,” Benji said, “have fun with it. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather play a game of Double Dragon with me, first?”

Benji said, “Positive.”

“I’ll play Double Dragon with you,” Lauren said, and that was that. Lauren and Benji walked to the other side of the arcade, and Alley plunked four quarters into Phantasos, one by one.
Plink, plink, plink.
He hesitated, and then,
plink.

Right away, orchestral music started to play from a speaker on top of the machine. A small door above Alley opened up, and a bar with a pair of rubbery goggles at the end of it descended slowly towards him.

The goggles stopped, just short of Alley’s face, and he frowned and groaned.
My dollar’s gonna go to waste.
He stood on his tippy-toes, trying to peer into the goggles, and when he grabbed onto them for support he was surprised that they gave way and fell some more, until Alley could comfortably position them in front of his face.

Now looking deep into the goggles, Alley grabbed at the joystick and buttons in front of him. A mesmerizing array of colors began to dance, and Alley stood, jaw open, clicking at the buttons on the arcade cabinet and pulling on the joystick. He took a deep breath, then said out loud to no one:

“Whoa.”

“I didn’t know you were such a Double Dragon fan,” Benji said, escorting Lauren towards the machine.

“I play it with Alley sometimes at home, but the arcade version is so much better than his copy.”

Benji reached into his pocket, pulled out one quarter for him and one for Lauren.

“What a gentlemen,” Lauren said jokingly.

Benji shrugged.

“I’m sorry for how miserable I’ve been acting these past few days. It’s summer, I get it. We should be having fun.”

Benji put one hand on a joystick and hovered the other above a row of buttons. A short cinematic began to play on screen.

“Don’t be sorry,” Benji said. “It’s tough. I can’t imagine what it’s like. I’m just the neighbor, the friend. I—mostly—only see the good times. I’m not there for the late night scares and the medicines and the doctor visits and all of that. I can’t imagine.”

“It seems to come and go in waves,” Lauren said, maneuvering her character through a grungy street on screen. The figure on the monitor began to pummel a thug carrying a baseball bat. “Some weeks are better than others. It’s been good lately.”

“That’s good,” Benji said, and in a hurry to control his character, he swung his joystick fast and his elbow brushed against Lauren’s. “Sorry,” he added.

Benji didn’t move his gaze from the screen, but from the corner of his eye he thought that he saw Lauren blush—

“Somebody help him!” A voice screamed from clear across the arcade. “Somebody, do something! He’s bleeding!”

Lauren and Benji looked at one another, and without looking back at the game, raced from where they stood to where they last saw Alley. Lauren’s heart pounded like a jackhammer, and her hearing went fuzzy. The sounds of the arcade became muffled, distant noises, as if she was suddenly underwater. Her hands cooled, her mouth went dry, and as she ran she felt weightless, a ghost floating across the arcade floor.

In front of the Phantasos machine, a crowd had circled around. Lauren jammed her hands between a couple of kids and pried her way through them. Lying on his back, a ruby stream trickling from a nostril, was Alley. His eyes had rolled back in his head and he was jerking back and forth frantically.

“Call 911,” Lauren screamed, and though she was certain the words left her mouth—the crowd jumped back a step at her shriek—she didn’t hear her own voice. “Call them, now!”

Benji raced towards Danny, who he saw darting for the rear office of the arcade. “I’m on it, I’m on it, I’m doing it now,” Danny said in a panic.

Benji sprinted towards the crowd forming around Alley. He pushed his way through them and dropped to the floor beside his friend, and held his hand. This Alley looked nothing like the Alley that Benji was most fond of—his lips were chalky white, his skin was pale and cold, and the way his body jerked and seized was terrifying.

“Just hold on,” Benji whispered to his friend. “Just hold on.”

The lights in the arcade flickered and a thunderclap boomed so loudly the walls shook. In an instant, a hard, terrible rain started to fall.