The Waiting Room
~ Chapter Twenty-Four
Mort's Theory
No
one paid much notice to Jack as he prepared the cage, determined that
today would be the day he would catch the monkey. If he was leaving
The Room as Barrie said, he would be needing that bloody coin.
That
was -- no one paid much attention, except Mort. He had watched the
pirate most intently. He watched as the grungy little man found the
cage, that Mort knew was not there the day before. He watched as the
Captain went and came from the kitchen, one of Hannah’s
bananas in
hand and placed it in the cage.
The pirate was plotting. He
was plotting and executing a plan. And yet, nothing had yet to
interfere. None of the other men stepped in, no one argued with him
that it would fail, that Depp would find out, spoil it all somehow.
Nothing seemed to happen.
Sparrow managed to connive a plan
and was about to carry it off. Mort would have to watch if he did
indeed catch the monkey.
Maybe Barrie was right.
Maybe
Sparrow would be the next one to leave. Is that why nothing blocked
him?
Mort reached over and reconnected his computer and
booted. He waited.
He waited, looking at the screen. Lori’s
name did not appear again. At least not for now, but he knew it would
only be a matter of time before it filled the screen again.
Mort
typed two words. “Watch Sparrow.”
He waited. The words
remained. They did not change. For some reason the words seemed
right. He glanced up at Sparrow and found the pirate attempting to
find the perfect spot for the cage. He typed some more.
“Sparrow
is the key.” The word key made him look to Blake. He
remembered the
skeleton key, the one his girl had given him. The one to the
basement.
Basement. The word brought his attention to Grape.
He was standing at the window, looking for Arnie. But Mort recalled a
conversation. The conversation were Grape had mentioned that Roux
could use the key to go down in the basement, through the locked
door.
“Get the key to the door.” Mort typed. He waited.
The words remained, the cursor flashing, waiting for his next
inspiration. Mort’s fingers hovered over the keyboard.
But
his inspiration exploded like a minefield when banging came at the
door, the exit door. Mort’s hands pounded down on the
computer keys
as he jumped, looking up to the wood door across the room.
“Delivery!” came Noodlemantra’s
announcement.
Mort
regained himself and looked back down to the screen.
“F-K
IT ALL TO HELL!” He spat the curse as he discovered the
screen was
blank, his finger on the backspace/delete key.
“So sorry
about that Mr. Rainey, dee-leting your words and all,” came
Shooter’s apology. “But I don’t think I
am ready to leave yet.
There is still a bit of unfinished business in this room for
me.”
“S--t, s--t, s--t” Mort bitched as he tried to
restore
the words, those few precious words. But they were gone. Not just
gone from the screen, but gone from his head. He couldn’t
remember
what he had just typed.
“F--k you, Shooter.” Mort snapped.
“Now that’s not nice, Mr. Rainey. Not nice language
at
all. After all Mr. Rainey, we have a guest at the door. I suppose
someone should answer it, don’t you?”