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The Waiting Room

~ Chapter Fifty-Eight


Rats in the Kitchen


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After securing the box, Jack wandered some more. There were so many boxes. The basement seemed neverending. They were all different sizes, all different colors.

Some had dates. Some had names.
All neat and tidy.

He soon found himself squeezing through the stacks, curious as to how far back they went. The passage became narrower and after a while the light from the front faded, casting darker shadows. Jack found himself wishing for a torch, or better yet, one of those new things…the handheld thingys that carried light inside all the time. Flashlight, yes, that is what Sam had called them.

He wished he had a flashlight.

Soon Jack was beyond the reach of the glow of the overhead bulb. It had become too dark to proceed but he could see the evidence that the basement was almost cavernous. What dark secrets lay beyond the beam of light, he wondered? What was back there in the depths of darkness? What is it that Depp kept in shadows where it could not be found?

It will just have to wait he thought. He would return and search the blackness. Finding out a man’s darkest secret is the quickest way to light your own way to greatness. He raised an eyebrow at his own thought. Mayhap…a Depp secret may be just the thing he needed to get out of The Room.

Yes, he definitely would return. But for now Jack turned, pressing himself back to the basement stairs, back into the light.

He made one final glance at the box marked “Lost Loves”, smiled to himself and patted his pocket. For now he had a bit of happiness, as he gave thought to the diamonds and gold band.

He took the basement stairs two at a time until he came to the top landing. Grasping the handle he turned the knob and pulled. Nothing.

“What?” Came his quiet response. Then had a thought.

Again he turned the knob, but this time he pushed.

Nothing.

His memory reminded him of what lay behind the basement door. The banana closet.

“Ahh, yes.” He found comfort in the thought. “The closet full of Hannah’s bananas. How could ye forget, Sparrow.” He recalled Sam saying he was going to shut the door, and push the cabinet back, hiding the way into the basement.

“Knock to come out,” Sparrow reminded himself.

He gave three soft raps.

“Sam, me boy. I be ready to come out now.” he said softly.

He paused, an ear to the door, listening for any sound of the young man.

Not loud enough he thought.

Sparrow rapped again, this time a wee bit louder.

Again, his ear pressed against the wood door.

Nothing.

The pirate leaned back, staring at the door.

“Sam!” he gave a hushed, but harsher tone. “Where be ye, boy? I be ready. Blast it, no time for games! Come forward and open it up. Captain Jack Sparrow is ready to be set free!”

Jack heard the sound of the cabinet opening.

“Sam, ye dog. I be waiting fer ye now. Make haste. Open the bloody door.”

There was a moment of silence, as Jack continued to listen for the sound of the cabinet scraping the floor, as he watched for the handle to turn and lead him to freedom.

Now Sparrow was getting impatient. What was wrong with the lad, he wondered. Why wasn’t he helping?

“Sam, are ye deaf? Ye promised to let me out when I be done. Well, lad, I be done now. Ye can let the old Captain out.”

But to Sparrow’s surprise he did not hear the cabinet move. Did not see the handle turn.

Instead he stood there, listening to the sound of the banana cabinet door being shut and firmly secured. Jack put his ear once again to the wood door and listened in speechless shock as he heard the sound of fading footsteps.

“What the ‘ell?” he spat out a curse. Was Sam leaving him there, alone, in the basement?

Jack turned to face the stairs, looking down at the numerous boxes. There was no escape. He had left one room only to end up in another, alone.

Out in The Room, Sam stood painting another lovely picture of red irises beneath a glittering rainbow.

“Masterpiece,” he prided himself.

The kitchen doors swung open and Sam looked up to see Sands stepping out, adjusting his glasses over his empty sockets.

“Hey Sam!” the agent called out. “ I think you better be watching how you keep your kitchen hygienically safe. I think you got a frigging rat in your banana closet! Might think about putting out some bait or something to get rid of it.”

“Okay, Agent Sands. I’ll look into it. Can’t be having rats in the kitchen.”

Sand slid into his regular chair next to the kitchen door.

“Yeah,” the agent laughed to himself. “Especially a rat by the name of Sparrow.”



 

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