The Waiting Room
~ Chapter Sixty-Two
Letters and Lovers
Sam
and Sparrow climbed the stairs back up to the kitchen. As they did
they passed the box marked “Lost Loves”. The pirate reached down
and patted the pocket that held the rings.
“It’s not
going to hurt anything,” he thought as he cleared the top of the
stairs, stepping into the kitchen. Sam closed the door and together
they pushed the banana closet back into place.
“Now,” Sam
began, “from here on in the basement is off limits except if
something needs to be fixed. Then only Roux can go down. It’s
better that way, Captain.”
Sparrow remembered something.
“Me letters. I left me letters down there.” He made a
move as if he were going to move the banana closet. Sam placed a hand on
his arm.
“I will make sure you get them, Captain. Now
please. Let’s go back to the others. And I should warn you, Mr.
Blake, he is not happy with you. He still is upset that you moved his
key. You really should control yourself, Captain Sparrow. You really
should learn not to take things that don’t belong to you.”
Sparrow’s hand instinctively went to the pocket.
“Yes…yes…lad, quite right. Nasty habit. Will do better,
promise.”
“Good,” Sam said firmly. “Now I have to fix
dinner. Tell the others it will be out shortly.” Sam turned and
went to the refrigerator, checking on tonight’s menu.
Sparrow
turned away and headed toward the door, doing his best impression of
Sam.
“I will make sure you get them, Captain.” He sneered
as he reached the door. “Should learn not to take things that don’t
belong to you.” He slammed the door open and huffed into The Room.
“Well, I will bloody well take what I want,” he said in a quiet
rage.
Things were pretty much on the quiet side, the soft
sound of conversation but a murmur. The kitchen door flew back,
banging the wall, drawing attention to the pirate.
“Well…well…well,” Sands snipped. “Sounds like Sam
cleared the rat from the cellar. But sounds as if it’s made its
ugly ass way into here. Someone shoot it, will you, before it tries
to multiply or something?” The CIA agent gave a low laugh.
Sparrow looked sideways at Sands but did not give him the
pleasure of a retort. Across the room Blake turned and glared.
Sparrow glared back. There was certainly no love lost in this Room.
The pirate stood his ground when Roux made his way over.
“My
dear Captain. May I inquire if you disturbed anything down there? I
will have to go down and fix it if you have. Everything needs to be
neat and tidy and in its place. You did not disturb anything, did
you?”
The pirate pushed past the gypsy. “I need rum! Give
me rum!”
A tankard of the amber drink appeared on the bar
as young Jack served up the rum. Ever since his arrival from the
private resort he had been tending bar.
“You didn’t
answer my question, Captain. Did you disturb anything down there?”
The hairs on Jack’s neck bristled. Why can’t the damn
gypsy leave him alone? Why does everyone distrust him?
Why
shouldn’t they, he answered himself? You’re a pirate and no one
trusts a pirate, not even another pirate. He finished the rum and
asked for another, ignoring Roux.
“Perhaps I should go down
and take a look myself.” The Irishman decided.
“Good,”
Jack spat. “While ye be down there, fetch me letters. They’re in
the box marked “Lost Loves”.
Roux spun back to the
pirate. “You opened a box. No, no, no...you weren’t suppose to be
touching anything. You shouldn’t have put your letters into his
“Love” box. You don’t know what that could do. Those boxes were
off limits. You shouldn’t…”
“We’ve been over that
bridge one too many times, lad.” Jack leaned towards Roux. “It’s
a ship that’s sailed, so to speak. Now find yerself another ship to
board and be a good lad and bring me my letters.”
Roux
stood staring at Sparrow. He could not believe the man actually
opened a box. That he had put something that did not belong into one
of the boxes. And knowing him to be the pirate he was, most likely he
had opened more than one box.
“I’ll find your letters,
Captain. But pray that nothing be missing.” Roux turned on his heel
and headed towards the kitchen.
“And pray back at ye
boy…how would ye be knowing if anything was missing from any box?”
“Each box has an inventory list on the underside of the
lid. So if you do have something, you best hand it over now so I can
return it.” Roux held out his hand, waiting.
Sparrow
narrowed his eyes at the Roux’s extended hand, leaning away as if
he might catch something.
“I got nothing to give ye,” he
told the gypsy as he drained his tankard. If Depp’s memories were
so damn precious why were they so accessible? No, he thought, he was
keeping the rings. Finders keepers, as the saying goes.
Roux
closed his hand and dropped his arm to his side. He turned and
disappeared behind the kitchen door.
“Good riddence,” Jack
mumbled as he lifted his empty mug toward the young barkeep.
Across
the room Mort was pounding on his laptap, DeMarco and the Frenchman
by his side.
“I swear I don’t understand how this came
up. All I wanted to do was try to write and this popped up” He
tried pressing control, alt, delete, but nothing changed.
They
were watching a scene being played out, a video stream. On it was
Depp himself, defending himself, yelling about not having any idea
where they came from. The camera panned over to a diminutive blonde,
her French accent told them she had to be Vanessa.
She was
shouting in French, angry words as she waved a handful of letters.
“I don’t understand you when you shout and speak so fast!
Slow down, Vanessa! I told you I don’t know where they came from!”
Vanessa switched to English, halting and broken in her rage.
“I found them, Johnny! I found them in your desk! How long?
How long have you been seeing them? Who are these women? This Jess,
she is Spanish?” Vanessa waved one of the letters close to Johnny’s
nose.
“When? When did you get involved with a Spaniard? And
this one?” She tossed the second letter straight at Johnny’s
chest. His reflex was quick and he grabbed it before it fell to the
floor.
“A French woman no less, Johnny! This Carrie! This
singer! Another French singer, Johnny! What, I am not enough? You need
two French singers in your life?”
Vanessa turned and walked
away out of view of the camera. Johnny stood holding the letter,
staring at it.
“I swear,” he called out after his lover,
“I swear, Vanessa…I have no idea how they got there!”