The Waiting Room
~ Chapter Fifty-Nine
Depp's Memories, Sparrow's Dilemma
Mort
sat at the new computer. He had turned it on only once but finding no
reprieve from his writer’s block had shut the machine off.
Now
he tried again.
The screen flashed, the computer whirled and
clicked. Then pictures began to appear, quickly they came, one by
one, as if someone was running a slide projector. Each one showing a
woman.
"What the f--k?" Mort sat, confused. "Who
are these women?"
The word ‘women’ caught De Marco’s
attention and before Mort could protest, the Spaniard was at his side
watching the slideshow.
"Oh, that is a fair one,"
he pointed to the model trotting down the runway.
"Magnificent,"
came his comment as a bride smiled back at them.
The pictures
continued, different women doing different things.
"This
is a nice screen-saver program, Senor Rainey. How did you come by it?"
De Marco inquired.
"How the hell do I know? It just
showed up. I don’t understand. What is Depp thinking about? What is
he doing?"
Sam made one last stroke on the irises, then
cleaned his brush as Mort’s voice grew, drawing The Room’s
attention. As he made his way to Rainey’s desk he dried his hands,
curious as to what had Mort riled this time.
He froze when
Mort’s eyes came up over the computer and saw him, remembering that
he had already invaded the writer’s personal space. But he wanted
to see what was going on.
Mort narrowed his eyes at the lad,
then as if to answer his request, turned the laptop around so Sam
could see. Without a word, Sam watched the screen as the ladies
passed by.
Mort and DeMarco watched as Sam’s eyes grew wide
as the woman’s faces became familiar to him.
Lori.
Erin.
Winona.
Kate.
They were women from Depp’s
past. Past loves. Lost loves.
Lost loves!
These were
his memories!
The boxes!
Sparrow!
The
basement!
"Excuse me," Sam apologized as he bowed
and rushed from the room. Sam burst through the kitchen door. It
swung back and struck his butt, causing him to push forward.
Rubbing his backside Sam walked cautiously to the banana
closet. He glanced back to the kitchen door, recalling Sands had been
here, complaining of rats. Had he heard the Captain?
He
opened the closet door and peeked at the items. Yes, he could tell
someone had taken one of Hannah’s bananas. It confirmed that Sands
had been this close to the secret behind the closet.
He
closed the door and with a grunt, pushed the cabinet aside, revealing
the hidden door.
Sam stepped closer, ear to wood and rapped.
"Captain? Can you hear me Captain Sparrow? It’s me
Sam."
On the other side Sam could hear the sound of a
footsteps scrambling up the staircase.
"Sam! Ye bloody
cur! I’ll run ye through if ye not be getting me out of here soon!
Where ye been? Never mind! Just get the bloody door open, will ye?"
The Captains voice sounded frantic.
Too long without his rum,
Sam thought fearfully, afraid to let Sparrow out. He reached for the
knob and gave a turn. But it failed to respond. The door was locked.
"I …I don’t understand?" He tried again, his
fear rising. This time he gave a hard pull with the turn but the knob
refused to budge.
"Captain? It’s locked. I’m afraid
it won’t open. What should I do?" Sam’s voice shook.
On
the other side Sparrow stood shocked at Sam’s words. He rattled the
knob himself, Sam’s own words haunting him. The knob remained as it
was.
The pirate drew his sword and with a mighty yell ran his
weapon into the wood. But it only went deep enough to hold the blade,
the sword swaying back and forth.
"BLOODY ‘ELL!"
he screamed, frustrated at his current situation. He grabbed the
sword’s handle in both hands and pulled with all his strength.
The weapon sprang free, but for every action there is a
reaction, and Sparrow lost his footing, tumbling head over heels down
the stairs, landing with a thud at the bottom. The sword clanged to
the floor next to him.
The breath knocked out of him, the
pirate sat up, getting his bearings, noting that he was now sitting
on the cold basement floor, a broken tipped sword by his side and an
unyielding door at the top of the stairs.
"WHY WON’T
THE BLOODY DOOR OPEN!" he shouted at the top of his lungs,
flailing his arms. Despaired by the events he fell backwards flat to
his back wondering what was he going to do.
Just above him
the bare light bulb flickered…popped…and the room went dark.
"Bloody ‘ell." came the pirate’s curse.