Introducing… my vision of Billy Bostic
I hope it was okay that I didn’t respond to any of your comments yesterday knowing that this was coming today. And for those of you who are like me and have trouble keeping all of the characters we were introduced to yesterday straight, I’ve included my scene again at the bottom of this post so you wouldn’t have to click back to refresh your memory.
I was surprised how many of you said Billy was skinny, with thinning hair. My Billy is in his mid-forties, but a teenager at heart. He is constantly bouncing around with nervous energy and quick to leap into action, unfortunately without giving much thought to the consequences. The look in those blue eyes is but a hint at his complete unpredictability. He is commonly boisterous and impossible to embarrass, unless you question his intellect. A jock in high school and college, he is mindful of how people view him, fearing to be seen as all brawn and no brain. It’s amazing that his chest can contain the size of his caring heart, and he is loyal to a fault.
I invite you to get to know Billy better when I eventually get my book FALLEN KNIGHT published. :)
Here’s the scene again.
“Just keep your hands where we can see them, and don’t make sudden moves.” Billy was attempting to make his normally high-pitched voice come-off as menacing, but instead he sounded more like Elmer Fudd.
The corner of Mr. Brown’s mouth curled into a crooked smile as he slid both his hands in his pockets.
“Dude, you don’t want to be doing that.”
Brown turned his gaze directly to Billy. “Really? A middle-age man using the word dude.”
Billy pumped the slide on the shotgun roughly, ejecting a cartridge that bounced against the wall then tumbled onto the tile floor. He pointed the barrel directly at Brown’s head.
“What did you do that for?” Kent asked, making no attempt to hide his irritation.
“Shut up Kent,” Billy said.
“I thought they just did that in the movies. You already had a live round in the chamber, so why did you have to waste a shell and pump in another one?” Kent continued.
“Will you shut up! I should have dropped you off in Lafayette,” Billy said angrily.
“And miss seeing you doing your Rambo impersonation?” Kent shot back.
“Will you two clam shut,” Raymond snapped. The sweat from his palms was making his own shotgun slippery.
“Has someone called the police yet?” Dianne interrupted the bickering.
“The phone’s on the end table just behind me Mark,” Lee instructed, still not taking his eyes off of their captive.
A soft chuckle from Mr. Brown caused them all to go silent. He lowered his head, swiveled it from side to side a couple times, and then started to rise from his chair.
Both Billy and Raymond took a half-step backwards and re-adjusted the shotguns against their shoulders.
“Mister…I’m not afraid to use this, and I won’t miss” Billy warned.
“That’s right…he’s been the paintball champion of Lafayette Parish for three years running now,” Kent added.
“You have some brave and loyal friends Mr. Hamilton,” Brown said, looking slowly around the room at the six of them.
“I consider myself lucky,” Lee responded.
“It’s a shame that you got them all killed.”