Fandom: The Phantom Tollbooth

At the end of The Phantom Tollbooth, Milo is told he has learned everything he can from the Tollbooth. I say this to give context. This story is a first chapter of sequel to these events.

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Much time had passed since Milo's grand adventure with the tollbooth. He was much taller, voice much deeper, and a little scruff added texture to his formally smooth face. Yes, much time indeed. Enough for him to begin to experience the more woeful products of this world and for his last adventure to become a tad hazy.

It happened upon a summer evening. School was let out for the seasonal break, though that didn't stop Milo. Milo had acquired a thirst for learning since his last dance with the tollbooth and all the inhabitance therein. The thirst demanded his attention nearly at all times. Never wasting a second in his day. Striving ever onward to his next endeavor. This time, it was college. Milo wanted nothing more than to get into college, and would do anything to get in. Some would refer to him as a 'shark' as he battled for class rank, internships, and more. Many of his actions and attitudes were less than amiable, but all in the pursuit of knowledge. He would reason: If in the pursuit of knowledge and not a waste of a second, then am I not fulfilling my purpose?

Milo would go from school to home and home to school. He hardly ever saw his parents who seemed to become ever more frustrated with his fashion of coming and going. On this fine summer evening, Milo begrudgingly slammed the door of his room which drowned out the now faint berating of his mother. Even in summer he was a ghost in his family house and might be mistaken for one if it weren't for his occasional appearances. He laid aside his backpack and flopped on his bed, letting his body rest a moment while he began to consider his next course of action. This summer was the last summer before the end of his high school career. It would be evermore important to use this time wisely. It was then, as he was concocting a plan for his summer goals, did he catch a glimpse of something familiar from the corner of his eye. A decorated box as dark as night with a card attached sat patiently in the corner of his room awaiting discovery.

Milo sat up on the bed. Is that the tollbooth again? It was rather odd for it to be anything other than a random gift left for him as Christmas and his birthday were nowhere in sight. However, the more he stared at the mystery box, the more he was certain it was the tollbooth. But why? He was told that he had learned everything to be taught with his last adventure from the tollbooth. What is it he is to learn?

Sliding off the bed, Milo made his way to the corner with the box and took the card. Sure enough, the card described the contents of the box as it had done once before. Maybe it was morbid curiosity or nostalgia, but he opened the box and put everything together as he had done years ago. A little excitement bubbled up in him. Maybe he would be able to see his old friends. He would have liked to go back long before and now the opportunity has presented itself.

Milo took the map and opened it only to find it looked nothing like the one from before. It didn't seem to even be in the same region. He had never heard of the Land of Avari, Asphodel Moor, or the Kingdom of Habor. He has never heard of the likes of Skid Row, Hotel Has-been, or the Court of Remission. These destinations seemed rather out of left field, and most did not sound inviting. For a moment, a thought emerged saying, "You don't have to go." But Milo swiftly threw it aside. If the tollbooth was here, then he must have something to learn from it. What he had to learn, he did not know what, but he did learn a lot from his past adventure. Perhaps, because he is older, he is ready to learn new things. With that, Milo once again got into the toy car and drove through the tollbooth. His destination was the Land of Avari as it was the closest.

Already, upon arrival, did the world seem dark and hazy. The sky seemed to be locked into a never-ending twilight. As Milo drove, he flew by figures and shadows but was sure to keep going and avoid distractions. The further he went, the more the figures and shadows seemed to reach closer and closer to the center of the road. Milo began swerving and laying on the horn to avoid an accident. "These crazy people! If they don't watch it, they will cause an accident," Milo muttered to himself as his car screeched to the left and drifted to the right.

It seemed to go on forever until he came to spot light in his distance. The Land of Avari was ever close! Right then, a shadow dove in front of his car. Milo could not swerve to avoid in time and collided with the shadow. The car skid to a halt. Milo, knuckles white, gripped the steering wheel like a lifeline. He had hit someone, or at least some thing. Did he dare get out of the car and look? His body wouldn't respond, only remained still until a noise came from under the front of the car.

"Is that how you greet all those who have the unfortunate opportunity to cross your path?" groaned a voice. A hand planted itself on the hood of Milo's car, followed not too long by a head. It was a small fellow with loose black hair that fell in his face, honey eyes, and dressed in what appeared to Milo like rags.

For a moment, they stared at each other. Milo tried to speak but nothing would come from his mouth as he was still too shocked to do anything other than gape. The Fellow seemed to realize this with a sigh, "I know, I know, but how else were you going to stop? You seemed very sure in your way you did. This seemed like the most logical course of action."

"I-I'm sorry?" Milo croaked out, finally getting his voice back. "Throwing yourself in front of a car was the most logical course of action?"

"Why, of course," said the Fellow. "Would you have stopped otherwise?"

On further inspection, Milo noticed the grime in the hair of the Fellow, the dirt smeared on his face, and the asymmetrical dilation of his pupils. There was an off-putting odor emanating from the same direction as the Fellow and it would be a fine guess to say his rags for clothes were the culprit. "I . . ."

"Mhnm," huffed the Fellow, "as I thought, I did." He pulled himself to his feet using the hood of the car and limped to the passenger side. Making himself completely at home in the seat, he turned to Milo. "Hope you don't mind but let us journey to the Kingdom of Harbor."

Milo very briefly recalled the name as one of the regions he noticed, but it seemed much farther of a drive. "I was making my way to the Land of Avari."

The Fellow laughed, almost too hard. "The Land of Avari? No, that will simply not do. The Land of Avari feasts on the likes of you. You do not know much of our land, do you, young traveler?"

"I'm afraid not." The Fellow's eyes and stench revolted Milo more with each passing moment. And who was he to tell him where to drive or to even take his passenger seat? "What is your business with me? Why stop my car?"

"I would have expected more from an educated young man such as yourself. I need help. It is as simple as that."

"Then why not ask instead of demand?"

"We've tried asking. We go unnoticed, invisible, unless we demand."

"We?" Milo asked.

"We, the Displacables. We are the ones who are displaced and thrown away from our societies. Forgotten and merely shadows, hardly seen by any passerby unless demanded to be seen." The Fellow seemed to wait for Milo to react. He let the claim sink in before continuing. "We are the ones who societies are most ashamed of as we are a reminder of how they have failed. We are not meant to be seen or interacted with, but I will take it no more."

"Why would a society not try to fix their wrong?" asked Milo carefully.

"Responsibility," the Fellow answered as almost as silence as a whisper. "It is a fight over who should take responsibility. Should the individual take responsibility for how their life turned or should the community? If the individual is a blemish on the community, then wouldn't it be better for the whole to banish them? Responsibility. The supposed responsibility on an individual to their community. That is what awaits you in the Land of Avari."

"If that is the Land of Avari, then what is the Kingdom of Habor to you?"

"Refuge. Sanctuary. A place were the likes of me can go and not be called a menace or enemy to the common good."

Milo frowned, "I hardly can see how the Displacables being designated a menace or an enemy to the common good could be for the common good itself. What about the common good of the Displacables?

The Fellow shrugged, "I think you have considered the question more than those who rule over this place, young traveler." He reclined back in his chair, propping his feet on the dash. "Off we go then, to the Kingdom of Harbor."

"To the Land of Avari," replied Milo, slowly easing the car back into motion once again. A few shadows distorted the landscape here and there.

The Fellow narrowed his eyes, "After all I have said, why are you going there?"

"I want to understand," Milo said, picking up more speed. "If the Land of Avari is what you say it is then I want to understand their reasoning of the common good and how sound that reasoning is. Are there more like you in the Land of Avari?"

"Oh, yes. Many more. They are far more unlucky than I as they cannot simply be 'forgotten'."

Milo grunted, dodging a few figures who made their way toward the center of the road. "Then I think the Land deserves a tourist stop."

As Milo sped on down Phantom Road, drifting and swerving to avoid the shadows, the Fellow allowed a small smile to tug at his lips. The young traveler had finally begun his journey.

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Have a wonderful day!

Yours for Eternity,

~ Phoenix