The Waiting Room
~ Chapter Fifty-Three
Sparrow's Ghost Tale
Sparrow
watched with trepidation as Sands told his story to Crane. Oh, how he
wished to be a fly crawling across the agent’s pork dish. Not only
would he hear the story but he could take a s--t too. And serve the
bloody bastard right too, Sparrow added to his own thoughts.
“Captain?” It was Roux. The gypsy sat among a group of
what Jung called ‘foreigners'. Besides Roux, there was DeMarco,
Cesar, BonBon who sat upon Lt. Victor’s lap, Abberline, Barrie, the
Earl and the Frenchman. Roux was strumming his guitar, the group was
quietly talking among themselves.
“Captain,” Roux
repeated. “Come join us, please. We are sharing tales and stories.
I am sure a fine seaman as yourself must have a tale or two worth
telling.”
Sparrow glanced over at Sands and Crane. He saw
that Sands was still talking, Crane nodding and had started writing
something in a notebook. Sparrow watched as Sands reached over,
putting a hand over the notebook and shook his head. The notebook
disappeared into Crane’s coat pocket.
“Bloody ‘ell, why
not?” The pirate spun back to the small group and wobbled over, a
tankard in hand.
He slumped into an empty chair, plopping the
tankard to the table. He began to think about which story he could
tell. Something wild, he thought. Anything to get his mind off the
computer, his girls and Sands.
“Twas ‘bout near a year
ago,” he began. “Was coming back from an endeavor near
Madagascar. I’d just loaded The Pearl up with new supplies.”
“You mean you plundered one of the King’s ships,” the
Earl accused. Sparrow narrowed his eyes at the English lord.
“It
be all in the eye of the storyteller…and I be the storyteller, so
please be so kind as to let me tell it me own way?” Sparrow sneered
at Rochester. The Earl waved a white hankie in the pirate’s
direction, indicating him to proceed.
Sparrow turned his
attention back to his audience.
“We set out to return back
to the Indies. And to do so we was required to sail round the Horn.”
he explained.
“You had to sail around a horn? I do not know
what you are talking about. Why did you have to sail around a musical
instrument?” BonBon cooed. If the pirate was going to sail around
anything why not Elanna’s violin? It was so much prettier.
Sparrow rolled his eyes and began to speak but DeMarco held
up a hand.
“Please, Captain. She is a delicate flower.
Allow me to explain.” The Spaniard held out his hand to the Cuban
vixen, “In private, if I may?”
Much to Victor’s
surprise BonBon rose and accepted DeMarco’s hand, letting him lead
her to a more private corner to discuss the geography of the southern
tip of Africa.
“If I may,” Sparrow spat, frustrated that
his story had already been interrupted twice. Roux gave a short nod.
The pirate lifted his hand to emphasize the journey. “We be
sailing, as I said, round Cape Horn, when there be a fierce gale that
rose from the depths of Hell. Seen no storm like it before…seen
none since. The Pearl be battered but she weathered the storm fair to
game.” Sparrow leaned forward to dramatize his next words.
“Then
there it was…out of the fog it came…the one, the only…The
Flying Dutchman!”
“The ghost ship!” cried Barrie. The
Scotsman was well versed in all manners of ships, especially those
with spectral history.
“Aye, one and the same. Cursed by
the captain who failed to round the Cape and now appears to all
others.”
“But correct me, dear Captain,” Barrie asked,
“is it not true that the first crew member to spot the haunted
vessel becomes cursed themselves?”
“Ye be correct, Mr.
Barrie. And God rest his soul, the man that spotted it fell to his
death from the crow's nest the next morning when the storm had calmed.
“But,” Jack held up a finger to keep their attention, “but
not before he called out that there be a body in the water!”
“Be
it from the Dutchman? Tell us, Sparrow,” Victor encouraged.
“She
never said,” Sparrow answered.
“She?” Abberline’s
voice laced with surprise. “It was a woman in the water?”
“Aye.
I sent the dingy out with me coxswain and crew member to bring her up
out of the water. The crew and meself sure to rights that she be
dead. But she was floating, on her back, and they brought her back to
The Pearl.”
“You brought a woman aboard The Pearl. Bit of
bad luck, don’t they say, Sparrow?” The Earl interjected.
“Aye,
but ye forgot one thing, Rochester…I be Captain Jack Sparrow and
Lady Luck is always smiling down on me. I never fear to bring a woman
aboard the Pearl. Women are always welcomed to Captain Jack Sparrow’s
cabin…I mean…ship,” he quickly corrected.
But it wasn’t
quick enough.
“So this mystery woman,” Victor was
intrigued, “She spent the night in your cabin. To be sure, you must
have discovered her identity and how she came to be in the water?”
“Aye, her name be Ally. As far as the interrogation of who
and where she came from, well, let us just say, that the verbal
interview did not last too long in itself.” Sparrow showed his gold
with a wicked smile.
“But, alas, come morning she be gone.
We searched the ship stem to stern, port to starboard. No trace. As
if she was never there. I woke to an empty…eh…let me just repeat,
she was nowhere to be found. Gone, like that,” Sparrow clicked his
fingers.
“And you have not seen her since on your travels?”
Roux asked.
“Nay… t’was like she be a ghost…a ghost
from the Flying Dutchman…and I fear I shall never see her again.
T’is a shame, I tell ye, for that was one of the more memorable
trips about the Cape I tell ye. I be willing to dock in her port
again anytime!”
A round of laughter filled the room.
Meanwhile, Ichabod rose from his chair thanking Sands for his
honesty.
Sands raised a gloved finger to his lips.
“Remember, Stork,”
“Crane”
“Whatever…remember,” Sands reminded the Inspector.
“Between you and me, amigo. What I told you was in strict
confidence.”
“Your secret is safe with me, Agent Sands.”
Ichabod Crane promised.