This is a comedy wanna-be-novel I began some time ago, but never continued. 

I still hope to someday continue and complete Fil's story. He is one of my favorite characters I've ever created.

Fil

In the town of Higensburg there stretches a busy main street where all the people and buildings look the same. All but one, that is. That’s the place I work for. With tall green vines climbing up its brown, brick walls and a gloriously messy assortment of flowers blooming a-top its big, flat roof, Ms:

Fraulien Fern’s Fruiterary and Flower-shop

has got to be the most fantastic store in the town. Maybe the whole world. I once pointed out to my sister, Lindsey, how flipping friendly and fantastic it was. She snapped back that I should stop trying to be so funny. I cracked up.

“That too!” I exclaimed, ducking a smack to the ear, “Funny, fantastic, fruity, flowery, friendly flipping fun and-” she got me, knocking that last word clear out of my head. I still haven’t found it . . .

Needless to say the ‘quirkiness’ (as my mom’s friends liked to call it) of Ms. F’s store and person, tends to rub off on me. As a result, I am one of the cheeriest, weirdest kids in town.

Not that I wasn’t already weird before I started working for Ms. F. Sometimes, I’ve had the funniest feeling that she asked me to work for her because I am quirky. We got along great, had more than a few good laughs and, as I grew older, became better and better friends every day. I even changed the ‘Ph’ at the beginning of my name, out for an ‘F’ – just to keep things clear. It also came with the added bonus of ‘Fil’ looking way funnier than ‘Phil.’

After about three years of working for Ms. F, every Tuesday and Friday (yep, I worked on Friday) I graduated from sophomore to junior. That was the year my world changed for good.

My Mission

“Ferocious.”

“Fierce.”

“F-”

“Fil! Get down here!” my mom bawled from below.

With a snarky smirk, I gave my reflection one last wink, and snatching up my fuchsia baseball cap, trotted out of the bathroom.

First day being Junior, I decided that for the next nine months, I would choose an F-word a day to bring with me to school. First day’s word: Ferocious.

Not that I was much of a ferocious sight, plummeting down the stairs in all my fuchsia base-ball capped, neon-green sneakered and tie-dye shirted glory. Appearances weren’t the point. I wanted feel ferocious, which is why I spent fifteen minutes making faces to myself in the bathroom mirror. Now, I was ready for anything.

Even Lindsey. In fact, I wanted her to bug me. I was not disappointed.

“See here, squirt,” she growled as soon as the front door closed behind us.

“Correction,” I said, sticking up a finger, “If you’re going to call me something small and squishy, make it a fungus. After all,” I grinned, “I am a fun guy.”

She grabbed my collar. That was unexpected.

“You better listen, ‘cause I’m only telling you once,” she snarled.

I smiled sweetly, “Anything you want, Sis.”

“You don’t know this school like I do,” she went on, ignoring my sass for once, “Sure, you’ve been in the freshman and sophomore classes, but those are different,” she leaned in close, “Everything changes in Junior, and if you try to embarrass me, I will not be there to rescue you. So drop all your funny business right now, or you’re on your own.”

“Wow,” I said, nodding my head slowly, expression grim, “Gotcha, Sis. Cadet Fil the Feracious going alone. Roger that and make a note of it!”

With a sigh, she let me go, stalking ahead towards the bus stop. Little did she know that under all the bravado, I had officially been scared. As I trailed after her, my mind was driving faster than a Ferrari on the freeway.

“Oh boy, are we in for it,” my inner pessimist groaned.

“Naw, for all we know she could just be trying to scare us,” the optimist replied.

My sister was a Senior, eager to graduate and head off to college. It was all she could think about. Ever since she started high-school, Lindsey had tried to act like a grown-up. As I, her little brother, and used-to-be best friend, watched her change and grow slowly quieter and more consistently upset, I promised myself I would never, ever try to be a grown-up. I would stay silly and do my best to have fun. If being all grown-up is what made Lindsey miserable, I wanted no part of it.

“Ferocious,” I whispered to myself, trying to throw off my gloomy thoughts. A feeling of power filled me from my feet to my head. Ferocious – that was the word. With a grin, I sprinted the last few yards to the curb.

“Fil the Ferocious, reporting for duty,” I monotone, snapping a smart salute. Lindsey gave me a wicked glare.

“You’re gonna wish you’d listened,” she said quietly.

I turned away, still smirking, and as the bus squeaked to a stop, I thought to myself:

“You know what, I don’t care. I’m gonna be Fil, and if you, the school, and the whole world don’t like it, that’s fine by me. I’m going to have fun and be fierce, ‘cause at least that way, I’ll be happy.”

Following Lindsey with my eyes as she mounted the bus stairs, the smile disappeared from my face.

“If I play this right,” I thought, “Maybe I can make you happy too.”

And that became My Mission.

[here the manuscript ends]