Phineas Made the Lion Roar

The short story below started as a children’s story, but it has a swearword that I didn’t want to remove and as I was thinking about that, I realized that this is more of a parent’s story, kind of a cautionary tale as it were. It is my entry for the Soaring Twenties Social Club Symposium Each month STSC members create something around a set theme. The theme for Symposium #18 is “Fiction”.

Phineas Made the Lion Roar

Phineas¹ was a small boy, and what a small boy he was. A spot of mustard born sandwiched in the middle of two thick slab of ham brothers, so thin he was covered in down like a hatchling shaking off his shell, a mere speck in a house of rough and tumble. You might have missed him if it weren’t for his voice.

He was loud.

But being loud barely got him noticed in his house. He lived in a house of pain where the volume control was set on high.

Most mornings when he woke in the asylum, his mother was in the kitchen berating his father, “You need to step it up mister, I do half the work in this house! Why can’t we have nicer things?”

A selfish woman who knew most everything, she didn’t care if the boys overheard. She didn’t notice them really. She was consumed by her dissatisfaction Many mornings she kept it up till her husband erupted.

“Leave me the fuck alone!” his father would bellow in a threatening voice. Then he would throw something, breaking it, then pick it up and break it again as if smashing it to bits was the only power he had. Helpless, defeated, disappointed, unloved, he found pleasure in anger’s surge of adrenaline.

“You’re, dumb.” Phineas’s older brother would yell.

“GET OUT OF MY ROOM!” His younger brother would scream as Phineas ducked in to evade the first insult

“Leave us alone!” They would both exclaim joining forces. “We don’t want to play with you.”

“That’s mine! Mah-umm, Phineas wont quit bugging us.” they’d whine.

But their mother, busy in her phone’s imaginary world, rarely seemed to notice and left them to sort it out themselves.

Phineas was small but you could see him shrink just a tiny bit more at each cruelty. As two, his brothers were the company, as three, he was the crowd and he didn’t like it, not one little bit.

So,

when it got to be too much, he would set his feet firmly in place and prepare with a pause. He was silent at that moment, like birds before a storm. Then he’d take in a slow deep breath before his wind began to freshen.

Begun as a whimper, swelling to a sob it became a siren in the distance barreling down the street growing as it neared and stopping right in front of the house. He’d scream. He’d wail. The pitch raised higher and higher until finally his Mom would look up from her phone and bark, “Stop it Finny.”

But he wouldn’t stop.

“ Go to your room right now young man!”

But he never heard her, he only heard his spirit screaming in a rising pitch, “No, NO NOO NOOO NOOOOOOOOOH!”

Finally gaining his mom’s full attention, he’d hear her coo as if to soothe him, “Finny honey, what’s wrong? What can mommy get you?”

But Phineas would be consumed by his screams and despite getting the attention he needed he could not stop. His tantrums went on for hours at a time. Just like everyone else in his house; despite the volume, he was never really heard.

Phineas was a very bright boy, he was a noticer. He noticed that his situation was not the best it could be, but at this time, he was just too darn small to do anything about it. The tantrums were simply the steam valve on the pressure cooker so his lid wouldn’t blow. One day playing alone in the basement, well actually hiding from the fury of his older brother, he found a box about his size and thought it would make a great hiding place. He scattered the contents on the floor and climbed in.

sketch by Jeanne

It’s kinda dark in here. What if there are spiders? Doesn’t matter. What if he finds me? Phineas weighed the risks and settled into the box. He squirmed a bit trying to get comfortable and it was then that he noticed that he hadn’t managed to completely empty the box. Some old paperback books were at the bottom. He fidgeted around until he unwedged one, held it up to his face, but couldn’t quite make it out in the darkness. It had been quiet for a while so he cautiously pushed up the lid of the box just enough to see a cartoon of towheaded boy about his age in a red and black shirt. Hey!, He looks like me he thought. But then he noticed, this boy had a Tiger! He was eager to know more. “Calvin and Hobbes”² the title read. Before long Phineas was lost. He was enlightened. He was amazed, he was laughing!. Calvin was a little guy too, but he and his tiger Hobbes had solutions. They took action against oppressors; fun action. Calvin and his alto ego, Stupendous Man, had the answers.

A cartoon lightbulb lit in Phineas’s head. Unfortunately, the switch was flicked by his older brother slamming the top of the box with his fist.

“Gotcha!”

Phineas fought back and managed to escape the basement, book in hand, to the relative safety of the kitchen where he sought the protection of his mother’s form. He grabbed her shirt in a desperate plea for sanctuary.

“Leave me alone! Can’t you see I’m busy? Go to your room Phineas, NOW ”

Usually he would protest the injustice, but this time he was happy for the reprieve of isolation since he had found the magic book. He spent that afternoon with Calvin laughing and plotting, as usual Hobbes didn’t have a whole lot to say, but Finny knew he was listening.

His Grandmother was coming up for a visit in a week or so. She would help, he just knew it.

“Dad, can I call Grandma tonight?”, Phineas eagerly asked his father that evening the moment he walked through the door.

“What for?”

“I decided what I want to be for Halloween.” Phineas answered, knowing that his father would not refuse this request. Grandma always made his costumes and his Dad liked to encourage the boys to be creative.

“Sure, we’ll call her after dinner.”

“Grandma, can you make me a Stupendous Man costume for this year?”

“You mean like Calvin’s?” she asked. Phineas was a little surprised that Grandma knew Calvin, but he didn’t let on.

“Yes, a red cape with a hood is really all I need, like Calvin’s”

“Ok, that should be easy enough, I’ll bring it when I come up next week.”

Phineas could hardly wait. His brothers were as dumb as Moe and Susie and now that he read how Calvin handled them, he knew things would improve. He would practice his wit while he waited. It could work on his parents too.

“Bath time Finny.”, he heard his mother call.

He hid in the bathtub. She didn’t find him.³

The next night when she called for him to take a bath, he went into the bathroom and crawled out the window.⁴ He snuck back into the house and back into his bedroom and she never knew the difference. The next door neighbor was watering his lawn and he gave Phineas a quizzical look as he dropped from the window to the ground, but he didn’t rat him out.

“Hey stupid, where’s my soccer ball?”

His older brother burst into the bedroom looking for his ball. He pushed Finny aside roughly as he grabbed it from the floor. Nonplussed, Finny stood tall (he was still very short) and managed to stick to his plan and say, “You must have some social problems Moe, if this is how you relate to people.”⁵ It didn’t work, Moe pushed him harder and he fell on the bed.

“Who’s Moe, stupid?” was all his brother said as he left Finny’s room.

As the week went by Phineas learned more from consulting with Calvin. At dinner, he would refuse to eat his vegetables explaining it logically to his confused parents. He had to avoid ‘Moe’ as usual, because, his wise words didn’t seem to work on him. He had more luck with ‘Susie’, as he dubbed his pesky little brother. It was easy to avoid playing with him her.

Grandma arrived as promised with the red hooded cape. It fit perfectly!

“I made this for you too. what do you think?”

She pulled out a homemade Hobbes doll and handed it to him. “Plus, I found you a shirt like Calvin’s.”

The real Phineas and his Calvin costume inspired this fictional story.

Phineas was ecstatic. He grabbed the doll, donned the shirt and cape and became his hero.

His problems weren’t over. He imagined his brothers liked him more because he was stupendous. He thought he was dealing with his parents in such a reasonable way that surely they would stop trying to control him. But he didn’t live in a cartoon, he knew deep down that he didn’t have superpowers, that his parents were busy, and his brothers cruel. It made him feel his smallness but he learned how to laugh and that made all the difference. He pretended that he was worthy and he gained assurance in his imagination.

“No you can’t wear your cape to the zoo.”, his mother said early one Saturday as she packed up some snacks for the day.

Sometimes on the weekend, his family would go to the zoo. Mom would be happy to spend the day outdoors. Dad would be happy that Mom was happy. Finny and his brothers would be happy to see the exotic animals and maybe get some cotton candy or an ice cream. The zoo was a happy place. Finny really wanted to wear his cape so everyone would know he was stupendous. But his superior reasoning, then his outright begging didn’t work. He knew if he didn’t stop, the trip would be canceled. Phineas, loved animals and he loved the zoo. It was more important to go than to wear his cape. He didn’t fuss any more than the bare minimum everyone expected.

They were all on their best behavior though the boys still bickered as they jostled to get the best views. Phineas found himself straining to catch a glimpse of an elephant’s ass or an ostrich’s head from between the armpits of the bigger boys.

They came to the big cat exhibit. The male lion was out lazily sleeping on the precipice overlooking the enclosure. The viewing area was nearly empty, Finny got a place up front between his brothers.

“Awh darn, he’s sleeping.” Moe complained.

“I’ll wake him.” Phineas puffed his chest with his bragging forgetting that his cape was still at home.

“What are you going to do Squirt?” Moe countered

“Yeah,” Susie, taunted, “what are YOU going to do?”

He didn’t know why but he took in a breath, slowly opened his mouth and roared. It wasn’t the best he could do, he still felt pretty small but he saw the lion’s ears twitch and turn towards him, so he tried again.

This time he put a little more into it.

The lion raised his head and looked around.

Once again Phineas roared. He roared much louder, because the lion was looking directly at him!

Then it happened. The king stood to face his challenger. His glance was bothered, annoyed even when he saw the tiny boy. And then, as if to let this pipsqueak know just who was who, the mighty cat opened his mouth and roared.

A lion’s roar is a fearsome thing. Mouth opened wide, lips curled to better show the deadly teeth, it starts as a rumble from deep within. It vibrates as it passes from the lion to the air and you can feel the sound. His two brothers shrank, slightly startled and scared by the sudden noise. But not Phineas, he had been training. In that moment he was fearless, a beast. He set his feet firmly in place and prepared with a pause. He breathed in slowly to gather his strength, opened his mouth as wide as he could, and let out a terrifying roar.

The lion was no longer annoyed, he was threatened. With a fierce look he shook his head at Phineas and let loose another roar, deeper this time.

sketch by Jeanne

Now, a lion’s roar is nearly as loud as an elephants trumpet and by this time a crowd had gathered around the tiny boy and the fearsome lion in disbelief. The air was alive with the sound. Phineas held his place and bellowed back. Call and answer, the show continued. The lion sensed that the creature before him was small, but patient and persistent and not about to quit. Finally, the lion took a few steps backward and bowed slightly to his diminutive better as he sat down in supplication. The crowd applauded young Phineas and his brothers looked on in wonder.

“Mom,” his older brother cried with proud excitement, “Phineas, made the lion roar!”

“That’s nice dear.”, she replied barely glancing up from her phone.

1. I do have a grandson named Phineas, but he is a strapping lad and this is fiction. I like the name. I may use it for many of my stories.

2. By author Bill Watterson

3. From a Calvin and Hobbes cartoon by the talented Bill Watterson

4. Another Calvin and Hobbes cartoon by the fantastic Bill Watterson

5. Not the exact words, but in the spirit of a Moe and Calvin conversation by the great Bill Watterson

Not a footnote, but I love Bill Watterson!