Phantom's father had died two months before he was born, so they left him alone at age one on the wild island. He could almost imagine his father galloping at the head of the herd of wild ponies and horses of all kinds. His father was a black thoroughbred with a silver blaze, his mother a pure Assituge wild horse. These thoughts vanished from Phantom's brain as he lay down to go to sleep waiting for the next day to come.
Six weeks had passed and it was ninety-eight degrees. Three-year old Phantom lay under a cool sugar maple tree. It had been a misty morning that day and the dewdrops from the tree sprinkled all over Phantom's coat.
Phantom cocked his ears forward. He heard a strange noise against the thrashing waves. Then Phantom saw an enormous ship. He did not know what it was, but he knew it had to be evil, for it was the same figure as the one htat had taken his mother from his heart. Looking at the terrifying figure he remembered the mucky stalls with the rotting hay and mildew water that his mother had died in. He, too, had been to these stalls but had escaped back to Assituge. His mother had cuahgt colic and died at a place called "Christopher Smith Horse Training and Obedience School."
His mind drifted from the thought of his mother and how she died, and came to the thought of the horrifying ship. The memory of the terrible stalls scattered to another part of his brain. Now he had to concentrate on the strange figure. The figure was lurking closer and closer. Phantom leapt up to his feet noticing that the figure was now on shore.
He cautiously headed toward the woods when he noticed that men were coming out of the ship. Seeing this Phantom galloped towards the woods. He hid in the shadows of the pine trees. He stood in the dark waiting for the men to leave. As he stood there he could smell the pointed green needles towering over him.
The men were carrying thick, long pieces of golden rope. Before Phantom knew it they were rounding up herds of wild creatures with flowing manes of all colors. Phantom heard the cries of the wild creatures whinnying and pawing the ground. Phantom could not stand seeing this horrible sight. He reared, pawed the ground, lowered his head down to his shest, and charged at the evil men who were taking the wild creatures from where they belonged.
The men saw Phantom charging at them. They jumped out of the way, causing Phantom to knock himself unconscious by hitting his head on the ship. The men noticed Phantom's silver coat and white mane. They whispered to each other, "We could nurse this horse back to health and sell him for six thousand dollars. That shouldn't be too much. Look at his mane. It's white - pure white, and his coat is silver. This way we can use the six thousand dollars to get some new parts for the ship."
"Alright," said a man called Nicholas Edwards, "but we better take him to an obedience school, for he's a wild creature. I know a man who lives in New York who gives the horse a good beatin' if he does somethin' that ain't right. His name be Christopher Smith."
"Good! Then that's where we'll take him."
The men took out a large stretcher and laid the sad ghostly creature on the hills of fluffy cotton. They placed him a a dark and soggy stall.
Two hours later, Phantom found himself in these stalls. Shocked, he got to his feet and shook off the soggy hay. Feeling hopeless, he lay back down and waited to die, waited to live, waited for this terrible steel figure to take him away from his beloved island.
Three hours later he was in a gloomy and crowded city mankind called "New York". In chains he crept down the dock and reached the lonely but crowded street, passing foggy stone windows and the pale-faced people staring at him. The evil men held Phantom's chain tight and stopped him in front of a dark, gloomy brick building. The bitter words ran through his head, "Christopher Smith's Horse Training and Obedience School". Over and over again and again. Phantom was positive he would die. One of the men knocked on the door. A tall dark figure answered the echoing knock.
"Yes?" the dark figure said, "may I help you?" It had to be Christopher Smith, Phantom thought. A man with a black mustache answered, "We are here to offer you this horse. He's from Assituge. I reckon his sire were a Thoroughbred."
"How much?" Christopher Smith asked.
"Six thousand dollars."
"Alright, I'll take 'im He looks like a fine horse."
Christopher gave the men the money and took Phantom around the building to a dark stall that had mildew in the water and rotting hay. Phantom slowly walked towards the shadows of his death. He looked in the stall next to him and saw the skeleton of another horse. Phantom lay down to die.
Two weeks later, Phantom was put back in his stall after a whip beating. He lay down with his back bleeding. He closed his eyes and died on that day of April 4, 1988. His last words were "At last I can be at peace with my mother. At last."