The Waiting Room
~ Chapter Seventy-One
Chapter Seventy One
“Most
human affairs are carried on at the same nonsensical rate, which
makes me think it a fault to laugh at the monkey we have here.”
Wilmot began after he and Sparrow clinked glasses and drank the first
sip of sherry.
“Uh?” Sparrow knitted his brow at the
Earl’s words. Please, dear Lord, Jack thought, this can not be what
Carrie wrote.
“Oh, sorry dear man. Words I wrote once to a
friend.” Rochester explained. Jack released a sigh of relief. “I
was just commenting on that mankind is nothing but a funny little
monkey…we never take it seriously as it dances around for us…much
the same we do with life. We as human beings never take life
seriously. We laugh at it as it dances by.”
The Earl
touched the letter that lay upon the bar before them. “And in your
case my fine fellow, you indeed have a monkeyed life. But it appears
yours is of the living, breathing species and not a literary note of
my writings. Your dearest Carrie writes about a monkey and its
importance to you.”
“Aye! The monkey! The one that other
space monkey let go.” Jack gave a half-glance over his shoulder
towards Armacost who sat by his radio waiting for Emily.
“The
creature has something I need. A coin.”
“Indeed.”
Wilmot confirmed and tapped the letter. “Your little French singer
confirms that you do need the coin, for whatever power it holds, it
is your one key to escaping The Room. Without it you will be doomed
to return to this self-proclaimed Hell.”
“Hell? This
room?” Jack asked. “Nay…this is not Hell…this is lower than
Hell, yer lordship. This be the lowest portion of Hell.” Jack
paused, his mind racing back to his near escape only to find himself
being spit back out into The Room through the bed. If he had the
coin, would he have been successful? He would never know.
“What
else?” he asked bringing his attention back to the letter.
“Ah…she speaks of the day you attempted to abscond with
her. Quite a daring attempt I might add. Reminds me of a time once in
my own youth. I was but a lad of eighteen, smitten with an angel of
my own. Elizabeth was her name. I recall setting a trap for her as
she traveled with her grandfather. Kidnapped her right from the
nit-wit. But alas, it was not to be…captured I was for such a
bungled attempt and spent three weeks in the Tower of London.
Your own attempt was much declared a failure as well and I did fear
that the memory of it almost put a halt to the translation, being the
Frenchman was witness to such madness and the unfortunate accident of
the megaphone embedding itself on the poor lady’s head.”
“Aye,
I failed at escaping with me angel but at least I did not wallow for
weeks in a British prison. I am Captain Jack Sparrow and I do me best
to keep meself free.”
“Touché, dear pirate. And I
must add that the incident did not sour the fair maiden against you.
It seems she awaits your freedom and your return. She has implored
that you once again come and make good on your attempt.”
“What?
She wants me to kidnap her again?”
“Her words say that
this is her desire. She also refers to a certain scarf that she prays
is still in your possession.” Wilmot watched as the pirate touched
the scarf that covered his head and caught a smile tug at the corner
of his mouth.
“Is that all? Be there more in the letter?”
Jack snapped back.
The Earl waved his hand. “The usual
other sentimentalities that a young woman in love writes. Of how she
will aptly reward you when you return and are successful in your
endeavor to rescue her. I must say…quite a cheeky one she is.”
Jack’s smile widened. “Oh, Earl, ye’ve got no idea how
cheeky this one is. And a voice! Why it brings this pirate to his
knees. She was definitely touched by the angels above. I pray that
someday ye could enjoy the pleasure she gives when she sings.”
Wilmot slid from his chair as he began to take his leave.
“Oh, be sure, pirate. From the words of the lady, she is indeed one
that I am most interested in sharing the pleasures of one day…her
singing, that is,” he added with a bow then walked away, returning
to the companionship of the Frenchman.
Jack watched with
narrowed eyes as the Earl took his leave, not quite sure if his
lordship was being totally honest as to his intentions for his
singing angel. But he let it pass and picked up the letter, satisfied
that he now knew two things.
That Carrie was waiting for him
and that he needed the coin. Now he just needed to get that monkey.
And to get the monkey, he needed to contact the wench who had
it: he needed to get word to Shelley.
But more importantly, he
had to find his pistol and sword.