The Waiting Room
~ Chapter Seventy-Two
Sparrow's Humiliation
Jack
placed his hand where his pistol once was. The emptiness beneath his
touch reminded him that his weapons were missing.
He turned
to face The Room, giving each one a once over. How could he have let
the pistol and sword be taken from him? Was he so drunk he did not
feel the thief steal away his possessions? The obvious answer was a
sound ‘Yes’. He let go a sigh. Perhaps he best watch his drink
from now on.
As he watched and waited his eyes fell upon
DeMarco. The Spaniard was asleep, his head upon the table. He thought
perhaps he should wander over and check on the progress of his
transcription while he tried to devise a plan to retrieve his pistol
and sword.
Jack approached the table at which DeMarco was
resting and came to realize that he was not asleep, but merely had
his head down upon his arm, mumbling to himself in his native tongue.
“What be the trouble, mate?” Sparrow inquired. The sound
of the pirate’s voice brought DeMarco to his feet, the chair
scraping back against the wood floor.
“Capitan Sparrow? I
was not aware of your presence. My apologies.” Jack watched as the
self-proclaimed Spanish lover’s eyes darted nervously behind the
mask, finally resting on the table. Sparrow let his eyes follow and
saw that the table was empty.
It took a second for the pirate
to understand what was making DeMarco so nervous.
“Where is
Jessi’s letter?” He asked as he stepped forward, eyes narrowed.
The Spaniard stepped back, waiting for Sparrow to draw a weapon he
might have hidden somewhere on his body.
“It is they that
took your weapons, too,” he commented as he tried to divert the
truth of the letter from himself.
“They? What do you mean,
‘they’? And what do you mean, ‘too’? You weren’t armed.”
Sparrow looked DeMarco up and down. “Were you?”
“Never!
I am a lover! I do not invest in such violent means as pistols and
swords and other objects of destruction. My weapon is but one of
love...I disarm the ladies with my charm. I am armed with nothing but
admiration for the fairer sex. Dissatisfaction is my only enemy…and
be sure dear Capitan…no woman leaves my arms unsatisfied.”
“Stop with the bloody talk!” Sparrow warned. He realized
he still tried to lay his hand upon the pistol to get the threat
across, but was once again reminded of the missing weapon. Without
the gun to back his threats he would need a different approach.
He
held up both hands, index fingers up and gave them a small shake.
“Let’s begin again, Don, shall we? I’ll ask a question, you
supply the answer? Savvy?”
“I am at your service, dear
Capitan.” DeMarco gave a small bow but his eyes stayed focused on
the pirate.
“Now, correct me if I am wrong, but I gave you
a letter. A letter ye promised to translate. Did I not?”
“Si,
si, you did.”
“Ah, good. That being established.”
Sparrow went on. “And how may the translation fare, if I may ask?”
“I am afraid I have no answer to that question, Capitan.”
DeMarco said, lifting his hands up, showing they were as empty as his
answer.
A darkness crossed Sparrow’s face. “What do ye
mean…no answer…ye translated or ye did not translate. What is the
answer?”
“I did not have the opportunity to translate the
letter. It was, shall we say, confiscated by the authorities.”
Jack’s brow furrowed at the answer. “Confiscated by the
authorities? What does that mean?”
“It means “to be
taken away” and …”
“I know what confiscated means…I
am asking who took it from ye?”
“Constable Crane
commanded that I relinquish the letter to him. He claims it was
within his duty as an official representative of the law. I am a
peace abiding man, Capitan. I did as he requested.”
Jack
turned sharply from DeMarco, facing the constable across The Room. He
felt the Spaniard step closer, leaning in to whisper in his ear.
“I
must advise you, Capitan. It was Constable Crane who also took
possession of your weapons while you slept.”
Sparrow felt
the heat of his anger flushing his face. Crane! Crane! Of all the men
in the room to relieve a pirate of his weapons! Constable Crane! BonBon was more manly than the Scotland Yard constable!
There
was only one thing to do, Sparrow thought to himself, and he steeled
himself against the humiliation of losing his weapons to the
pansied-ass creature and marched himself across The Room.