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The Waiting Room

~ Chapter Sixty

Blake's Revenge

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Sam listened to the sounds behind the basement door. His chest tightened as he heard what sounded like the Captain falling down the stairs, then a popping sound.

“Bloody ‘ell” came the pirate’s curse.

“Captain! Captain!” Sam called, trying to keep his voice controlled, and the volume to a minimum. He did not what anyone else coming into the kitchen and discovering the secret behind the banana closet. He had been entrusted with it; him and Blake. Already too many people knew about it, Gilbert and Roux for starters, Mort Rainey, and the Captain.

Mr. Depp would not like this. He would not like this at all.

“Captain!” Sam looked at the door, listening for Sparrow. “Captain, can you hear me?”

“Aye,” came the reply. It sounded as if he had not moved.

“What happened Captain?”

“I fell down the bloody stairs! What do you think happened!” came the retort.

Sam heard movement and mumblings.

“What Captain? I can’t hear you.”

“I said,” came Sparrow’s shout, “I can’t see a bloody thing! The damn light has gone out on me and I’m in the dark. I’m blinder than…” more mumblings.

“What? What did you say, Captain?”

“I’m blinder than that bugger Sands down here! Do something Sam! Get me the ‘ell out of here! Make haste, boy!”

“Aye, Captain, I mean, yes, Captain. Right away, Captain!” Sam started to run from the kitchen then thought better and returned to the cabinet.

“Sorry Captain, but I can’t let anyone else know about this.” He pushed the banana closet back in it’s place, then headed for The Room. He stopped at the swinging door and composed himself, tugging at his vest, straightening his hat, then slowly, nonchalantly swung the door open and stepped into The Room.

He scanned the faces until he found William Blake. He walked quickly but without fanfare to the accountant turned gunslinger. Blake was sitting with Raphael who was counting his money again.

“Fifty-thousand dollars,” Raphael said, placing the last bill in the pile. Blake nodded.

“Yes, that was $50,000. alright. Quite a little nest egg you’ll have when you get out. Now what you should do…”

Blake stopped when he caught a glimpse of Sam out of the corner of his eye.

“What do you want?” he asked, perturbed at being disturbed. “Aren’t you suppose to be cooking dinner or something?”

Sam nodded, then grabbed his hat, holding it nervously in both hands.

“Yes, yes I am, but,” Sam glanced around. “I could use your help in the kitchen please, Mr. Blake. It’s very important.”

After a few minutes of protest Blake followed Sam into the kitchen.

“Well?” Blake looked around but saw nothing on the stove, smelled nothing baking. “I don’t see dinner. What’s the problem?”

“Over here,” Sam guided the cowboy to the closet and pushed it aside.

“The basement?” Blake was concerned. “What have you been doing Sam? You know you aren’t suppose to go in the basement without permission. Only Roux can go. He goes down, does his business and comes back. Anyone else can’t be trusted. And that includes you and me.”

Sam pointed at the door.
“It’s locked” as he tried it to prove his point.

“Yes, of course it’s locked. I have the key.” Blake pulled the skeleton key from his oversized, furry coat pocket. Sam wrung his hands together fighting the urge to grab it.

“Well, truth be told, Mr. Blake. I discovered a secret. That you can open the door if you believe you can open the door.”

Blake eyed Sam. “Go on.”

“I may have let someone in…” he held his hands up as he saw Blake begin to protest, “he promised he wasn’t going to touch anything. He just needed a place to hide something. And I thought the basement was a perfect place.”

“Who?” Blake demanded. “Who’s in there?”

Sam grimaced.

“The Captain.”

“Sparrow! You let Sparrow in the basement! Sam, how could you! He’s a pirate! He’s can’t trust him! What were you thinking?”

“He promised, Mr. Blake, he promised not to mess with anything.”

“And of course you believed him? Sam, Sam, Sam. Don’t you know the saying 'You can trust a dishonest man'…blah blah blah…and as far as I am concerned, Sparrow is one of the most untrustworthy men in this Room…right after Sands…no wait…I think they may be tied. Doesn’t matter,” Blake waved his hand for Sam to step away. “Move, let me open it.”

He began to insert the key into the door.

“Wait,” he paused.

“No, no,” Sam looked to the key to Blake to the key. “No waiting, Mr. Blake, we have to get him out. He’s mad and he might be hurt. He fell down the steps. We have to open the door.”

“If you could get the door opened earlier, without the key, why do you think you can’t do it now?”

Sam looked frightened by the question, or rather, by the answer.

“I was afraid to open the door. I was afraid he would hold me responsible.”

“So in other words, your emotions kept the door locked.”

Sam nodded.

Blake turned the key and a distinct click was heard. Sam sighed as the knob turned in Blake’s hand and he pulled open the door.

Light from the kitchen shafted down the stairs. At the bottom sat the pirate, sitting cross-legged, head down. Slowly he brought up his head, his eyes blazing with contempt, then changing to euphoria as he realized he been set free. He scrambled to his feet, snatched up the damaged sword and sprinted up the stairs.

But just as he reached the last few steps, Blake slammed the door, plunging the pirate back into darkness, causing him to mis-step and sending him sprawling back down the stairs.

“Bloody ‘ell” came the same curse.

“What? What are you doing?” came Sam’s frantic cry. “Why did you do that?”


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