On The Nature of Real Gravitas (a fan fiction)
BY K.L.
Synopsis: Not quite a Perfect Storm.. Billy gets to be a hero. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Main Entry: fic·tion Pronunciation: 'fik-sh&n Function: noun Etymology: Middle English ficcioun, from Middle French fiction, from Latin fiction-, fictio act of fashioning, fiction, from fingere to shape, fashion, feign -- more at DOUGH 1 a : something invented by the imagination or feigned; specifically : an invented story b : fictitious literature (as novels or short stories) c : a work of fiction; In other words. NONE OF THIS IS REAL
Bill walked the halls of Long Island home - his wife and kids were gone for two weeks and the echo of his footsteps only drove him deeper into his head. He wondered about the ‘why’ of his being reviled, but not the ‘how’. It bothered the shit out of him that he was shut out of the ‘A-List’. Hell, he wasn’t even on Kathy Griffith’s “D-List”.. It was Like he was fucking back in High School with a difference: He had Power. He was BILL O’REILLY, CULTURE WARRIOR.
He still spat on the memory.
Aboard the Sleeping Dragon, Stone and Stephen were casting line, still basking in the warmth of the inflight ‘Gravitas Debate’. Stephen still hated flying, but the shared intimacy lessened the fear. It was curious, thought Stephen, that this intimacy was so.. so comfortable. Like being with Jon. He let a small crooked smile cross his lips. So familiar.
Bill wandered into the kitchen and retrieved a beer from the refrigerator and popped it open. So, he was not going to the Ball. or was he? Show up as Maleficent showed up? Uninvited? Was he presumptuous enough to think it was mere oversight, this lack of an invitation?
The sky began to darken
The change in the weather wasn’t lost on the two men aboard the Dragon as they tallied their catch. “Yep, Papa caught dinner!” Stephen crowed.
“mmmm don’t like the look of the horizon. Stephen, go below and see if there are any storm warnings being broadcast. I’m steering her starboard and heading for shore.”
“Stone, I just KNEW you’d find a way to get me into the Captain’s cabin...” in spite of the joke, both understood that a storm was bad news this far out. While the Sleeping Dragon was a sturdy beauty, one good surge could possibly sink her and the two of them. “You BETTER get me home safe. If I die at sea, Evie will kill me...”
The storm broke over Long Island Sound sending waves crashing into shore, while winds gusted and threatened to capsize any and all small craft that were still in open water. The Sleeping Dragon was fighting the winds as she headed to shore. Stephen was still below listening to the broadcasts from NOAA. When he heard a loud snapping sound coming from above deck.
“Stone? Stone? I’m coming up.”
When he emerged from below he saw that the mast had snapped and had fallen onto the deck. “STONE!”
“I’M ALRIGHT. GET ON THE RADIO. CALL THE COAST GUARD...”
The phone rang. Bill considered just letting it ring. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. The phone just kept on ringing until it started screaming “ANSWER ME YOU [Bleeping] PINHEAD!”
“Yeah?” the disinterest was evident. “what do you mean Stone’s boat is missing? What do you expect me to do? Look for them? Okay. OKAY. Jesus... Look, I don’t have a boat, but the house is only a couple of miles from the beach. Bring them here once you find them” and he hung up. Despite everything, the pundit community was quite small. and talkative. once offended... never placated. and if he couldn’t go to the Party, why then he would just have save a life or two and say it was Providence that he was home on the stormy night.”
The Dragon tossed about like a matchstick in the wind as she was driven to shore. With the mast gone, only the centerboard remained to keep her heading to shore and to ground. If they could just run her straight in, the damage to the hull and keel would be minimal. but they needed the mast and sail to assist in guiding her, in keeping her on course. Lightening played across the Atlantic sky illuminating the taunting Long Island shoreline.
“Wonder who’s beach front we’re gonna devalue...”
“Is there insurance for that?” Stephen wondered. Yes, if he was killed, Evie would indeed dig him up and kill him all over again. not to mention what she would do to Stone for breaking his word.
O’Reilly stood on shore looking off to the east hoping to catch sight of the Dragons’ lights. His head was light with alcohol, and he hoped it wouldn’t interfere with the watch. Off to the Southeast, he saw the silhouette of a boat being tossed about when suddenly, it disappeared.
O’Reilly cursed and dialed 911, saying he had just seen a boat going under just off the Sound.
Wind and tide drove the two towards shore periodically pulling them under. Stephen washed up first. barely conscious, with Stone coming ashore near O’Reilly’s spot on the sand. As O’Reilly pulled Stone up the beach and away from the raging surf, he muttered “Jesus, Phillips, lose some weight.” His cellphone rang.
“O’Reilly. Where? I got Phillips here with me. he’s breathing but not moving. I’m gonna need help getting him up to the house. Colbert goes in Guest room 1...”
The two unconscious men were carried to the O’Reilly house, where per instructions, Colbert was placed in the guest room closest to O’Reilly, and Stone was just down the hall.
Widow's Walk“Get them out of those wet clothes - here,” O’Reilly threw several towels to the rescuers.
