HONORABLE MENTION
PHANTOM
Susan Marlin
Flint, MI
Susan writes
, "I have had a passion for writing almost since I learned how to read. Almost thirteen years and a thousand different ideas later, I finally have this honorable mention to show for it! Along with writing and reading, I also enjoy music; I love singing and playing guitar! Right now I live with my parents and my younger brother in the outskirts of a little city in Michigan, along with a cat, two dogs, and two cows, but in two years I'm off to college somewhere to pursue a law degree. But of course I'll always keep writing!!"I chose this work as an honorable mention because of the incredible potential it shows. I have discussed the possibility with Susan of making this a series. I hope she'll consider it. In the meantime, please enjoy!
The Phantom is very much a part of Chevralaire's history and tradition. Every year, on the Day of Freedom, children dress up as Phantoms, donning black outfits with hooded capes and paper plate masks painted black on one side. Scenes of battles are played out on the beaches, with one person playing the Phantom and a group of others playing Slayers. Of course, in these the Phantom always prevails. At the end of the day, the most important scene is acted out. As I child, I looked forward to seeing it. But now it gives me a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.
In this scene, a man wearing a Phantom costume combats a man dressed as the Slaymaster. The Slaymaster was the most horrible being known in Chevralaire for decades. He slaughtered the elderly, the young, and the women. He tortured the men. A group of his devoted followers, the Slayers, carried out much of his dirty work.
One fateful night, a man's wife was killed by the Slaymaster himself. The spirit of the Phantom entered the man's body and caused him to wound the Slaymaster. The Slaymaster managed to drive his sword through the Phantom's heart, killing him instantly. Everyone believed the Phanton had killed the Slaymaster, and he was a hero even in death. In any case, my father had driven the Slaymaster away, because Chevralaire has lived in peace ever since.
Yes, my father had been the Phantom.
Ten years later, as I sat on the sand eating watermelon and watching that immortal battle take place again in the golden light of sunset, I felt distant from the rest of the crowd. Instead of watching the fight take place, I was IN the fight. I saw through my father's eyes. I felt the hot, bitter anger that drove him to finally release the Slaymaster's grip on Chevralaire. I tasted the salt sweat pouring down his face and relished the feel of the sword puncturing flesh and drawing the Slaymaster's blood. The hilt of the sword heavy and reassuring in his hands, and the sounds of my mother's screams and the terrified cries of my and my older brother Roman echoing in his head with every lethal swing of the shining blade.
A pitcher of strawberry lemonade fell from the table behind me, drenching me as the lid came off. I shook my head and became myself, just a part of the crowd once more.
"Oh Goddard, I'm so sorry!" A woman ran around the table to pick up her empty pitcher and gave me an apologetic look. "My son hasn't yet mastered the ability to pour his own drink."
"No matter," I replied, smiling and standing. "That's what the ocean is for."
I moved to toward the water's edge, leaving the woman behind to scold her young son.
But as I stepped into the cold shallows, my thoughts were not of strawberry lemonade, but of my father giving his own life to save ours. It was then that I knew that I would never be able to view the dramatized battle from the same perspective as anyone else again.