Sunday Noon At Sea
Aug 18, 2019 23:48:25 GMT -6
Post by Snick on Aug 18, 2019 23:48:25 GMT -6
Patrick had hurried out to the boat dock and taken his Hobie Cat as soon as he could, skipping lunch. He didn't care. He had to see his brother, one way or another. He easily got the boat out of the dock and sailed it round near the lighthouse, glad the sea was rough and the wind strong, as that gave him all the reason in the world to work out some of his anger and let some of his angry tears fall. If he cursed while he sailed, who cared? Sailors were supposed to swear. Once he got it close to the lighthouse, he began flagging his brother, hoping he would see him. The currant wasn't going to let him float into shore, so he had to hope Phrixos could convince the lighthouse to bring him up. He dropped anchor and signaled his brother.
The lighthouse dropped a VHS of The Blues Brothers on Pratt's head. Rubbing the spot where it landed, he blinked at the title, then saw the lighthouse was shining its beam out onto the water. He'd gotten pretty decent at figuring out the lighthouse's clues.
"Shit," he muttered, scrambling off the couch and out the door. "What are you waiting for?! Beam him up!"
He waved both arms at Patrick to show that he'd seen him and waited to see if the lighthouse would bring him ashore. It wouldn't if he was sick, even if he was out in the deep and dangerous water during a thunder storm. But if he was well, it might, just to 'rescue' him from the unforgiving ocean.
Patrick shouted up at the beam, "I'm healthy, I promise. It's important." The beam shone on him for what seemed like five minutes before it finally filled him with light and pulled him into the lighthouse, leaving his boat behind, anchored in the water, its sail tied and folded to the mast. He hoped it would be all right.
Patrick stepped out into the lighthouse, looking around. As he saw his brother, his emotions came rushing in and it was all he could do to keep his face and his tears from erupting. He hugged his brother to hide how hard it was to keep from crying. He let him go. "Be damn glad you're here," he said, trying to sound like he wasn't upset, "Dad just gave me the hardest slap of my life because I didn't keep Iris from getting sick. She's going to get better though. They won't let me see her. But Dad got in. He can do anything he wants." That was it, Patrick lost it and started crying , wiping his eyes with the back of his hand as fast as the tears were falling, and losing the battle.
"Dad was here?" he bristled while hugging Patrick. "He slapped you? Because Iris is sick? Wait. Iris is sick?! Damn it, I hate being stuck here."
Pratt took Pat's chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilted his head to the side to look at his cheek. There was probably going to be a bruise. "Damn him," he grumbled and released Pat's face. "I didn't think they were letting people on the island. Of course he gets his way, always. Money is power. What was he doing here, anyway? Checking in on Iris, or you?"
Or me? he added inwardly.
Patrick stopped crying. "He saw Iris, slapped me for not taking care of her. Then he yelled at me about wanting to consider other legacies besides his, and other things I wasn't doing right," he added, thinking he didn't need to go into detail about Christopher. He still thought it was a good idea. Dad was just too cheap to admit it. "He threatened to disinherit me. Then he wanted to know about you and Siobhan. Said he'd heard rumors. I told him you two were just friends. He believed me and told me to watch you two closely and tell anyone who says you are more than friends that it's a lie and not to spread rumors." Patrick looked his brother in the eye, much like he had his dad. "I told him I have never seen you and Siobhan hold hands or kiss. Keep it that way. As long as I can tell him those kinds of truths, I can get away with it and he won't have an excuse to beat me senseless. Besides asking me to break you up if he found out there was more to it, I would hate to think about what he would do to the O'Brien family."
Pratt was nodding and listening, getting angrier with every word Patrick uttered. "His favorite is sick. Not your fault. Unless you have anti-sickness super powers," he rolled his eyes. "She's going to be fine. You told him you're considering other legacies? So he thinks you're rebelling. He's afraid you're turning into me."
He snorted. "You're scaring him," Pratt smirked. "He's scared and he's threatening you. There's no one else that can take your place. Iris is too soft and it's too late for Mikey, even if it wouldn't take years of therapy to make him a normal kid."
The grin on his face fell immediately. "But we... we're going to go public after... after the lighthouse releases us," the triumph he felt at Pat's semi-rebellion was replaced with dread in his heavy heart. "Or were."
He sighed. Pratt would have to remain Siobhan's dirty little secret, or...
"We're going to have to break up," he barely whispered and headed back into the keeper's quarters in a daze.
"Don't break up. That just gives him more power. Just keep it on the down low. Do you think I like being like him? Do you think I like that I'm the only one of the four Pratt kids that's like him? He's a bastard. I don't want to grow up to treat people like he does."
Patrick's face hardened. "I'm going to learn his every trick, his every secret. Then I'm going to get better at it than he is. Then I'll take over his business and put him out of business. He'll be done. But I'll play along for now and the next dozen years--let him think I'm the perfect son. Until I've learned everything I need to know to take him down." His look was cold. He took Phrixos's arm. "But I need your help. Please, I'm rebelling in my own way, not your way, but in the end, we're on the same side. You'll help me protect Iris and Mikey from him, won't you?" Patrick had never felt more cold anger in his life, but that slap hardened his resolve.
"Of course, I'll help protect them," he sounded a little offended - why would he say no? "I can't guarantee I'll help with your plan. I want nothing to do with the rise nor fall of Phrixos Pratt the Third."
Pratt couldn't guarantee he wouldn't break up with Siobhan to protect her and her family, either. His mind was still trying to imagine exactly what his father might do to the O'Briens. Was maintaining a likely temporary relationship worth ruining an entire family's lives? He sighed, dreading the conversation he would be having with Siobhan later.
"While you are here in the lighthouse, you and Siobhan can keep whatever you do that's more than friends private . . . enjoy it while you can, that's all I'm saying, Phrixos. No point in breaking her heart any sooner than you have to." He shrugged. Patrick was being enough of a bad guy.
"I heard you the first time, Patrick," he grumbled, then went silent with thought again.
"You know, why does he even care? I mean, it's not like I'm even part of the family anymore," Pratt shoved his hands roughly into his pockets. "Once I'm of age, he's just going to kick me out. He hasn't done it already because he can't yet. Nothing I've done since being unofficially disowned has been a big deal and I've done a lot worse than dating a smart, pretty, good Catholic girl. A lot worse. Why is this bothering him so much?"
The lighthouse dropped a VHS of The Blues Brothers on Pratt's head. Rubbing the spot where it landed, he blinked at the title, then saw the lighthouse was shining its beam out onto the water. He'd gotten pretty decent at figuring out the lighthouse's clues.
"Shit," he muttered, scrambling off the couch and out the door. "What are you waiting for?! Beam him up!"
He waved both arms at Patrick to show that he'd seen him and waited to see if the lighthouse would bring him ashore. It wouldn't if he was sick, even if he was out in the deep and dangerous water during a thunder storm. But if he was well, it might, just to 'rescue' him from the unforgiving ocean.
Patrick shouted up at the beam, "I'm healthy, I promise. It's important." The beam shone on him for what seemed like five minutes before it finally filled him with light and pulled him into the lighthouse, leaving his boat behind, anchored in the water, its sail tied and folded to the mast. He hoped it would be all right.
Patrick stepped out into the lighthouse, looking around. As he saw his brother, his emotions came rushing in and it was all he could do to keep his face and his tears from erupting. He hugged his brother to hide how hard it was to keep from crying. He let him go. "Be damn glad you're here," he said, trying to sound like he wasn't upset, "Dad just gave me the hardest slap of my life because I didn't keep Iris from getting sick. She's going to get better though. They won't let me see her. But Dad got in. He can do anything he wants." That was it, Patrick lost it and started crying , wiping his eyes with the back of his hand as fast as the tears were falling, and losing the battle.
"Dad was here?" he bristled while hugging Patrick. "He slapped you? Because Iris is sick? Wait. Iris is sick?! Damn it, I hate being stuck here."
Pratt took Pat's chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilted his head to the side to look at his cheek. There was probably going to be a bruise. "Damn him," he grumbled and released Pat's face. "I didn't think they were letting people on the island. Of course he gets his way, always. Money is power. What was he doing here, anyway? Checking in on Iris, or you?"
Or me? he added inwardly.
Patrick stopped crying. "He saw Iris, slapped me for not taking care of her. Then he yelled at me about wanting to consider other legacies besides his, and other things I wasn't doing right," he added, thinking he didn't need to go into detail about Christopher. He still thought it was a good idea. Dad was just too cheap to admit it. "He threatened to disinherit me. Then he wanted to know about you and Siobhan. Said he'd heard rumors. I told him you two were just friends. He believed me and told me to watch you two closely and tell anyone who says you are more than friends that it's a lie and not to spread rumors." Patrick looked his brother in the eye, much like he had his dad. "I told him I have never seen you and Siobhan hold hands or kiss. Keep it that way. As long as I can tell him those kinds of truths, I can get away with it and he won't have an excuse to beat me senseless. Besides asking me to break you up if he found out there was more to it, I would hate to think about what he would do to the O'Brien family."
Pratt was nodding and listening, getting angrier with every word Patrick uttered. "His favorite is sick. Not your fault. Unless you have anti-sickness super powers," he rolled his eyes. "She's going to be fine. You told him you're considering other legacies? So he thinks you're rebelling. He's afraid you're turning into me."
He snorted. "You're scaring him," Pratt smirked. "He's scared and he's threatening you. There's no one else that can take your place. Iris is too soft and it's too late for Mikey, even if it wouldn't take years of therapy to make him a normal kid."
The grin on his face fell immediately. "But we... we're going to go public after... after the lighthouse releases us," the triumph he felt at Pat's semi-rebellion was replaced with dread in his heavy heart. "Or were."
He sighed. Pratt would have to remain Siobhan's dirty little secret, or...
"We're going to have to break up," he barely whispered and headed back into the keeper's quarters in a daze.
"Don't break up. That just gives him more power. Just keep it on the down low. Do you think I like being like him? Do you think I like that I'm the only one of the four Pratt kids that's like him? He's a bastard. I don't want to grow up to treat people like he does."
Patrick's face hardened. "I'm going to learn his every trick, his every secret. Then I'm going to get better at it than he is. Then I'll take over his business and put him out of business. He'll be done. But I'll play along for now and the next dozen years--let him think I'm the perfect son. Until I've learned everything I need to know to take him down." His look was cold. He took Phrixos's arm. "But I need your help. Please, I'm rebelling in my own way, not your way, but in the end, we're on the same side. You'll help me protect Iris and Mikey from him, won't you?" Patrick had never felt more cold anger in his life, but that slap hardened his resolve.
"Of course, I'll help protect them," he sounded a little offended - why would he say no? "I can't guarantee I'll help with your plan. I want nothing to do with the rise nor fall of Phrixos Pratt the Third."
Pratt couldn't guarantee he wouldn't break up with Siobhan to protect her and her family, either. His mind was still trying to imagine exactly what his father might do to the O'Briens. Was maintaining a likely temporary relationship worth ruining an entire family's lives? He sighed, dreading the conversation he would be having with Siobhan later.
"While you are here in the lighthouse, you and Siobhan can keep whatever you do that's more than friends private . . . enjoy it while you can, that's all I'm saying, Phrixos. No point in breaking her heart any sooner than you have to." He shrugged. Patrick was being enough of a bad guy.
"I heard you the first time, Patrick," he grumbled, then went silent with thought again.
"You know, why does he even care? I mean, it's not like I'm even part of the family anymore," Pratt shoved his hands roughly into his pockets. "Once I'm of age, he's just going to kick me out. He hasn't done it already because he can't yet. Nothing I've done since being unofficially disowned has been a big deal and I've done a lot worse than dating a smart, pretty, good Catholic girl. A lot worse. Why is this bothering him so much?"
