The Waiting Room
~ Chapter Five
Hungry Beds and Sea Monkeys
“You
haven’t been here long enough to explain it to
him,” cried Wade,
a tear forming at the corner of his eye, “I think Glen
should, he’s
been here the longest.”
Mort rolled his eyes. These idiots
have s--t for brains. He may have been here less than any of them,
but he was more aware of what went on. He looked down at his watch,
realizing what time it was and began to count down.
“Five…four…three…two…one…and…”
He pointed to
the bedroom door where a blood curdling scream emitted. It happened
every day…same time…like clockwork.
“What the bloody
hell?” Barrie began to step towards the door.
“Don’t,”
Mort told him. “He’s gone.”
“What do you mean? He’s
gone? Gone where?”
“The bed ate him.” Mort deadpanned
with a shrug.
The Scotsman stood there with a blank look on
his face, unable to comprehend what Rainey just told him. Finally he
shook his head clear.
“What do you mean, the bed ate him?
Beds don’t eat people.” He stared at the closed
bedroom door.
Mort began tossing the slinky again. “In here they do. So I
might suggest not using the bed this time of day.”
Barrie
looked around the room trying to see if anyone was laughing, as if it
were all a joke. But no one was laughing.
He felt a body
approach him from behind, then suddenly the woman (?) was there,
tossing the boa across his face, blowing kisses at him, then slinking
away back to her place, next to Victor.
“She likes you,”
a deep, Spanish voice resounded across the room. He turned to see a
man in a mask rise and walk towards him, gesturing as if taking in
the scent of the woman. “It is good to love a woman, to be
loved by
a woman…to see your unborn children in her
eyes…but alas,” the
Spaniard dropped his arms to his side, his shoulders slouched forward
in dismay, “ I am a prisoner here, as you yourself are, and I
do
fear, that aside from Senorita BonBon, we will no longer encounter
those of the more feminine nature. I shall miss them.”
“Come
join us DeMarco…we can make you forget women!”
Jung shouted out,
taking another snort of white powder, laughing and giving Abberline a
playful shove, but the Inspector had passed dead out. “Jesus,
man!”
Jung exclaimed, “what’s that s--t you’re
smoking? Gimme some of
that.” He reached over and grabbed the pipe, toking heavily
on the
stem.
“Oh yeah…that’s what I’m
talking about,” he said
before his eyes totally glazed over.
Mort opened the bottom
drawer of his desk and pulled out the half-empty bottle of whiskey,
but quickly put it away when he saw Sparrow staggering in his
direction. He somehow managed to make it all the way to
Mort’s
side, rolling in all directions, his brow furrowed as he stared at
Rainey.
“Do ye, or don’t ye, have a bottle in that
‘der
drawer?” Sparrow wobbled as he pointed down to the said
drawer.
Mort scowled.
“It’s mine, so back off you washed up
sea-monkey.”
Sparrow quickly glanced around the room.
“Monkey? Did ye say monkey? Where be that bloody damn monkey?
He took the gold medallion…need to get it back.”
The Captain
wondered off in search of the nonexistent primate.
Barrie
watched as Mort began beating his head on the desk.