Time Share: The Time Phantom Interview, Part 1

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This story was inspired by the beautiful paintings of Andreas Englund, shown throughout.

Cameras aren't usually allowed at these meetings, so we've obscured the faces of those in attendance. An old man in a sky blue costume with a white skull emblazoned on the chest approaches the podium. The brown leather boots, briefs, and gun belt finish the costume, complete with the sidearm, which doesn't seem to make anyone uncomfortable.

He seems to steady himself by holding onto the podium, and looks at the group only a moment before saying, "Hi. My name is John Phantom, and I'm an addict."

"Hi, John," responds the group of about twenty people.

"I've been clean for thirty-five years, four months, and..." he stops to figure. "And nineteen days." The group applauds his accomplishment. "This past week has been an especially bad one." His head drops mournfully, followed by his eyes closing, and his lips drawing in as he remembers his pain. "My wife came back from the dead," he says to audible gasps from the group. "Sort of," he adds as he looks at the ceiling.

***

The scene switches to a private room where the old man sits at a table, still in costume, and smoking a cigarette. "No, my real name's not 'John Phantom.' Don't be ridiculous! My sponsor said that attending as 'Time Phantom' was 'hiding from who I was,' but I couldn't reveal my real name due to my enemies. Plus the group kind of felt silly saying, 'Hi, Time Phantom,' every time I spoke. So 'John Phantom' was the compromise. My identity is protected, and they get to not feel silly." The old hero shrugs. "What the hell? We all did some stupid, embarrassing sh[eep]t while we were using. What's 'John Phantom' between anonymous friends?" he chuckles ruefully. Then he takes a long drag on his cigarette, savors it, and blows it out through his nostrils while still looking at the interviewer off camera. "You know I hardly even touch these things anymore either?" he asks, then looks at the cigarette. "But like I said, it's been a bad week."

***

The camera switches back to the meeting where "John's" story continues. "I became the Time Phantom when I was eighteen. It's a legacy that goes back a little over two thousand years. 'The Ghost Who Walks Through Time' they call me, and it came with a long list of enemies trying to kill me... or kill me 'again,' in some cases. The 'immortal hero' story was easier to keep going before cameras and video." The group laughs lightly, and John smiles with them. "At any rate, I am one in a very long line of Time Phantoms, but all those crazy bast[eep]s wanting me dead just for continuing a costumed tradition? It was a lot for a stupid teenager like me. That... and the flying," he says with a shrug and an eyeroll.

"Who'd believe it, right? A hero that can fly, but is afraid of heights." The group laughed again. "Sure, the time travel, the other powers, the fame... and the girls," he says, pursing his lips at what is clearly a fond memory. "All of that was nice," he says with a nod, "but man, I hated flying. So whenever I could avoid it, I did. That's why I had the car," he says with a little gusto. Then his eyes go haunted as he looks at nothing in particular in the room, and somewhat weakly, he says, "That damned stupid car."

***

Back in the private room, the hero is still smoking. He says, "Oh, I loved that car.... then. If it hadn't been for that car, I might have never met her," he says with an endearing smile. Then his eyes go just as haunted as in the meeting, he takes a quick puff on the cigarette, and quietly adds, "Maybe that would have been for the best."

***

At the podium, John says, "Rollergirl was amazing. Pure beauty from her dyed blonde hair to the wheels on her skates. From that first time I caught her when she she was knocked off her feet by The Hitman, I knew that I had to be with her. She wasn't as impressed with me, but luckily, I had the car. She loved muscle cars- that's how she got around when she wasn't on skates- and my car had more muscle than any other out there."

Life showed back in his eyes as he described it. "Motoronium engine with nitrosium fuel cells. Flight and submersible capabilities. A loud, guttural roar when I put my foot in the gas. Badass chain guns that folded out of the sides when I needed the firepower. And a sweet, cherry paint job." He smiled a little as he remembered it. "We went on many a date in that car, and even raced each other when we had the time. We married eventually, and it wasn't long before our angel was on her way. We named her Clementine, just like her mom." Pride shown on his face, and there was a little twinkle in his eye that may have been a tear.

***

At the table, the tears were more obvious. He said nothing, staring at the wall as he recalled his losses.

***

"Rollergirl retired when she had our little girl, and I was all for it, but I kept in the fight. Twenty-one years old, trying to balance saving the world, being married with a kid, not liking to fly, and supervillains trying to kill me. So I started using to calm my nerves- took my first hit from some pills I took off a dealer I busted. I figured I was super strong and invulnerable- it wouldn't bother me, right? I just needed to take the edge off." He shakes his head ruefully at the thought.

Story and characters owned by Chris Bishop, copyright 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022.

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The Origins Behind the Origins (or how some of these characters got their names):

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Added "Origins Behind the Origins."