Philoscifi

On the brink of destruction, the world desperately needs a Hero. Phil Safari, a reluctant Candidate, must prove himself worthy to the gods by completing a Heroic Task: change 1000 lives for the better… or else! The following is part of the Safaris – a collection of Phil’s misadventures in Heroism. Find out how it all started and what he has learned about love, life, and the pursuit of happiness.

Usually guarded, I liked Phil already. We have only talked for about half an hour, but I could already tell a few things about him. He was a genuine person - no pretenses - which made him really easy to talk to. He also seemed pretty bright and had a quirky sense of humor that made me laugh, something that I desperately needed right now. Oh, it didn’t hurt that he was easy on the eyes too. Tall, lanky, big eyes, nice smile…boyish good looks, maybe even a little girly.

Oops, it was my turn to order. I ordered a small coffee and a pastry, and he ordered…a cup of water. Something about having a no drug policy. Since he didn’t drink caffeine regularly, any little amount would affect him greatly. Plus he didn’t think it was a good idea to mix depressants with stimulants. Like I said, quirky.

I caught myself tossing my hair back and giggling like a little school girl. God, I’m flirting with him! How embarrassing…and liberating too. I hadn’t felt this free in a long time.

“Now that we solve my problem, it’s your turn. If you could do anything, what would it be?”

“Travel,” Phil replied without hesitation. “The world is such an amazing place. There’s so much I want to see. Mt. Ranier, for example.”

“That’s great. Now you just need to find some job that includes travel. Problem solved!”

“Ha. Unfortunately, I doubt that anyone would pay me to go to the places I want. I’m talking about parks, away from the city and its problems.”

“Oh. Yeah, you’re screwed,” I said laughing. “Let’s try your way then. What you like doing as a kid?”

“Oh you know, the usual boy stuff,” Phil said vaguely, “Nothing special.”

“What, like baseball?”

“Yeah…baseball…” The word trailed off as Phil stared into the distance. Warning bells rang in my head. I had seen this look before, the look of a confessor.

I cleared my throat. “Is… everything all right?”

“Huh? Oh yeah. Just some memories of the past.”

I waited patiently as Phil played with packets of Splenda. He was quiet for awhile before he started his story.

“I had a brother once… his name was Alex, like Alexander the Great. We were close in age and did everything together. He adored me, following me everywhere I went and emulating everything I did. It was both annoying and flattering at the same time.

“But by elementary school, it became clear that he was better than I was at almost everything. He picked up everything so quickly. My parents were careful to treat us equally, but I still felt that they were more proud of him. I was just a stupid kid. I was jealous.

“I had started playing Little League baseball at the time. While he was still too young to participate, Alex would still follow me to the ballpark every day. One day, he kept begging me to teach him how to bat. I thought that this was a perfect time to teach him a lesson.

“When the adults weren’t looking, we snuck over to the pitching machine - you know, the one that fires the balls automatically. I gave Alex my helmet and bat, and we did a few practice swings. Then I told him he was ready for the machine and turned it on. Of course, the ball came out much faster than he expected, and he ducked the pitch, losing his helmet in the process. We both laughed.

“But then the next pitch came just as Alex was standing up, and it caught him right here,” Phil said, gesturing to his right temple. “I quickly switched off the machine and ran up to him. He was crying and had a nasty lump on the side of his head.”

Phil swallowed hard and paused for a few seconds before continuing. “I was terrified; all I could think about was how much trouble I would get into. I tried everything, frantically tried to calm him down. First I told him he was fine, then suggested that it was his fault for egging me on, and finally bribed him with candy to not to tell on me. This… isn’t a moment I’m proud of.

“Of course the candy worked the best. He had such a sweet tooth back then.” Phil smiled wanly, but it soon faded. He seemed unwilling to continue, but he droned on as if commanded by some external force.

“Alex was true to his word, telling our parents that he had tripped and bumped his head. Nothing serious, just a headache. But his symptoms got progressively worse over the next few days, until I found him unresponsive one day.

“We rushed to the hospital but it was too late. I finally told my parents what had happened… I kept saying how sorry I was, but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t coming back…I…I killed him!” Tears streamed down Phil’s cheeks as he sobbed uncontrollably.

I sighed. Slipping around the table, I put my arm around him. Despite years of counseling experience, this moment was never any easier for me.

“Hey, it’s ok,” I said gently. “It’s not your fault; you didn’t know what would happen.”

“But I did! Or I should have. I’m the older brother; it was my responsibility to take care of him. Instead, I was such a selfish fool.”

I sat quietly. There wasn’t much I could say against that. You had to allow the worst of the self-hating to blow over before any healing could begin.

As I waited, I struggled to sort out the sea of voices in my head before they capsized me. Single Evie wailed in disappointment at yet another example of how all men are psychos. Counselor Evie intoned that it was more correct to say that I had a propensity to attract psychos, but both agreed that I should distance myself from Phil. Stubborn Evie thought that Phil could be a diamond in the rough and that he was worth a bit more effort. As usual, “Stubbe” won, and the others groaned and went on their way, muttering.

Phil was saying something softly, and I strained to hear it. “…Afterwards, things were never the same. How could they be? My parents eventually forgave me, and things returned to a certain normalcy. They treated me ‘properly,’ but I knew that a certain intimacy was lost forever.

“She did her best to hide it, but sometimes I’d catch my mom staring off into the distance and know that she was thinking about Alex. I thought about him too; I still do. Sometimes I think I can even see him standing there, asking me if I want to play…”

Phil sighed, quickly drying his eyes. “Sorry to dump all of this on you! It’s so embarrassing. You must think I’m psycho.”

“No, no. It’s quite all right. Do you feel better?”

“Yes, thanks so much for listening. I don’t even know why I told you that story. I guess it’s been a tough week, and I’m sure the booze didn’t help either.”

“Are you sure that it’s not a cheap trick that you use to pick up chicks?” I asked, raising an eyebrow in mock skepticism.

Phil smiled wryly. “With my strapping good looks and suave monotone? I don’t need to.”

We both laughed, and it felt good. It seemed as though the dark clouds were behind us.

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