The Waiting Room
~ Chapter Ten
Space Cadets and Skeleton Keys
Mort
became aware that he was at his desk again, staring at the same blank
screen, his mind a total abyss. There would be no writing again
today.
Right on schedule, Wood emerged from the bathroom.
The attire for today included a long sleeve, tight fitting white
buttoned sweater topping a Catholic-school girl plaid skirt. His
heels were simple black pumps that appeared to be a bit too long for
him as he shuffled into the room.
The megaphone came up to
his mouth.
“Good morning my good people. I hope we all
slept well and woke with some fresh new ideas.”
Odd, Mort
thought to himself, he could not recall ever just falling asleep. Or
waking up. It was like one minute he was there, next minute gone,
another minute there. He wondered, did they just disappear when Depp
went to sleep? Would he ever completely forget them?
Sleep.
The word made the author think as he watched the Glen kid head into
the bedroom. Could he go to sleep himself? Without consequences?
Could he just get up and do something spontaneous?
He became
aware that more and more of The Idiots were milling around as they
too became conscious of their own being. Before it was too late Mort
made his move towards the couch, springing forward, twisting and
landing on his back. The couch springs bounced and groaned beneath
his weight before it finally settled down.
It was then Mort
noticed something new. He was wearing a worn and tattered robe.
“S--t,” he cursed aloud, drawing the attention of
Gilbert. He
watched as the kid got down on his hands and knees, checking beneath
the couch.
“What the hell you looking for?” Mort
asked,his attention temporarily drawn away from the robe.
“You
jumped pretty damn hard on that couch. Just wanted to be sure I
didn’t have to send Roux down in the basement and support the
floor. You know, he’s good at fixing things. But it looks
pretty
solid. I think you’ll be okay for today. But I
wouldn’t be doing
that everyday.”
“How in the hell would you get down there
anyway?” Mort asked. He hadn’t even been aware
there was a
basement.
“I have a key.” Gilbert pulled the item from his
pocket to show him. Mort flinched as he saw the ugly skeleton head
that adorned the key.
“Where did you get that freaking
thing?” Mort reached out to touch it but it was snatched from
Grape’s hand before either could make another move.
“From
me,” William Blake snapped. “My girl Angee gave it
to me before I
came here. You were only supposed to look at it, not take it. Next
time…” Blake patted the gun beneath his coat, a
warning to
Gilbert.
“Won’t happen again, I promise.” Grape
said softly. Blake narrowed his eyes at him, then turned and walked
away, back to the table where he and Raphael had been drinking.
Gilbert returned to his own table he shared daily with Axel, Wade and
young Jack.
Mort pulled the robe tighter around himself. The
small action reminded him that he was wearing it.
“S--t,”
he repeated as he stared at the robe. If it was on him now it meant
that nothing could be spontaneous. Everything was anticipated in this
f--king room. It meant that there could be no element of surprise.
Rainey removed his glasses to rub his eyes. He kept his hand
over his eyes trying to make sense of everything. As he lay there he
realized:
No element of surprise meant no escape.
Every
move was manipulated in here.
Mort felt the presence of a
body near him and moved his hand to see.
Spencer Armacost had
wondered over towards him, his attention diverted to some unseen
forces beyond the boundaries of the room.
“Jesus,” Mort
bitched aloud, “will someone get this space cadet away from
me
before I take a shovel to him!”
Gene made his way to the
Commander, leading him to a safer place.
“There you go,
Spence,” he said, “Looks like I saved you from
Rainey in the nick
of time.”
Mort twisted towards the back of the couch,
stuffing a pillow over his head. But it didn’t help; for no
matter
how tight he tried to pull it over his face, he still
couldn’t seem
to suffocate himself.
“S--t,” the word slipped out again,
“I can’t even f--king kill myself. This is never
going to end.”
He wondered where in the hell he had left the shovel.