The Waiting Room
~ Chapter Seventy-Five
BonBon Gives it Up
The
tension of The Room clung like a heavy fog, it rolled over the
occupants and stifled conversation for the rest of the afternoon.
Boredom was starting to seep in as the silence became
unbearable. No one talked, no one made jokes or comments, each afraid
to speak up, fearing it would start another confrontation between
those at odds with one another.
The quiet of The Room was
shattered when there came pounding at the door. Simultaneously Axel
and Gilbert bolted for the door. They shouldered one another aside as
they tried to volley for the better spot to invite the guest into The
Room. A bounced shoulder became a hand shove; the hand shove was
returned with a hard push; the hard push was followed by heated words
and soon the two young men were wrestling one another to the floor.
Angered by the immature display, the inebriated Earl drew up
next to the boys as they rolled about, trying to gain the upper hand
in the fight. Hands pushed at faces, legs curled around waists as
each tried to gain the superior position. Their grunts and groans
filled The Room.
“Stop, you hooligans!” The Libertine
demanded, and not accustomed to being ignored, was shocked when they
continued to wrestle. As The Room watched in horror, Wilmot brought
up his cane and in one swift move brought it down across Gilbert’s
bottom. The grocery store clerk cried out in instant pain, releasing
Axel and rolled away, his hand flying to his stinging backside.
“Jesus, man!” he exclaimed, his eyes widening as he saw the
cane raising again in preparation of another strike. But just as fast
the cane was jerked from the Earl’s hand. He shouted out against
the loss of his walking stick, recalling how Sparrow had once grabbed
it before. He turned, expecting to see the pirate but was taken aback
to see Raphael.
The American Indian stood defiantly, his
chest bared, showing the many scars he had endured in his life before
The Room, his arms blazoned with tattoos, their significance known
only to him. His hair hung straight, moving slightly as he brought
the cane up in both hands and in one swift move, snapped it over his
lifted knee.
He shoved the broken cane back to Wilmot, who
hesitantly took the two pieces.
“Next time you want to hurt
someone, you come see me.” the Indian spat out the words, then
turned hard on his heel back to his table. The Earl stood stunned for
a brief moment, then gave his attention to Axel and Gilbert. Axel was
already to his feet and backing away.
Gilbert, on the other
hand, was being assisted by Roux who glared at the Earl for his
outburst. Carefully the gypsy guided the injured boy out of harm’s
way.
Without an apology, the Libertine returned back to his
table where the Frenchman waited with a glass of sherry. Mumblings
about insubordination and rebellious hellions were heard beneath the
Earl’s breath.
Another pounding came to the door, reminding
them that no one had answered the previous knock.
His anger
still boiling, Wilmot spun to face the door.
“Why don’t you
just open the bloody door!” he screamed as he heaved the two pieces
of the broken cane. They hit the wood door and clattered to the
floor.
On squeaky hinges the door swung open and once again,
Noodlemantra appeared with another delivery. Unaffected by his
invitation to enter, he pushed the cart clear of the entrance and
quietly shut the door behind him, kicking aside the broken cane.
He
gave a sigh as he let his attention be drawn to the Libertine.
“I
need to be invited in, your Lordship,” ON explained as he lifted a
small cardboard box from off the cart and sat it down on the nearest
table. “This, this is for everyone. Compliments of Mr. Depp.”
A
few of them gathered around the box and upon opening it found a
supply of Montblanc pens.
Noodlemantra rolled away towards
Dean who was waiting for the next book delivery.
“Shantaram.”
Noodlemantra lifted the first book. “Another one his company is
optioning. Plans on doing the lead.”
Dean took the book
from Noodlemantra, flipping open the cover to read the flap.
“Australian heroin addict prison escapee who flees to India,
pretends to be a doctor, gets involved with the Russian mob and falls
for a Swiss-American who can’t love him back. Mmm? Quite a plot
line going on there.” He shut the book. “Always the quirky one,
isn’t he?”
Noodlemantra nodded. “But you know. Met him.
He’s so different in person. Quiet, reserved. Family man. Amazing
what he gravitates to as far as the characters.” As if to
accentuate his comment, Noodlemantra looked around The Room.
“Got
that right,” Dean agreed. “Anything else?”
“Yes. Two
things. A waterproof delivery envelope from the African Cape Horn. A
letter from a Dutch woman I am told, to the Captain.”
Dean
glanced over to the pirate. There had been too much already with that
man and letters. He made a decision.
“Take it back. At
least for now. Until things…settle.” He used his eyes to indicate
the tension of The Room. Noodlemantra followed his gaze around the
Room and stopped at the Earl who was trying to fit his broken cane
back together. ON put the envelope back on the cart.
“Understood,
Mr. Corso. Then there’s this. A pick up.” He handed a slip of
paper to Corso. He read it and nodded.
“She’s over
there,” he pointed at BonBon. Noodlemantra thanked the book
collector, taking the slip back and made his way over to the
she-male. He handed the slip to BonBon who read it.
In
silence she rose and made her way over to the bathroom door. As her
hand rested on the knob she turned her head back to look at
Noodlemantra with her sultry eyes. Then let them rest on Sands.
“I
have what you need, but I must relinquish it to you in private.”
She opened the bathroom door, stepping inside and wiggled a finger at
the book deliverer. Meantime Sands rose and made his way to the
bathroom.
DeMarco was out of his chair and crossed the room
in but a few strides.
“My dove, you do not mean to tell me
you are going in unsupervised. Please, allow me to be your guardian.
You should not be alone with these strange men.” The Spaniard
looked at ON from head to foot then let his gaze fall back to his
Cuban beauty.
She reached over and touched DeMarco’s chin
as ON and Sands brushed past them both into the bathroom.
“How
gallant, my love,” she cooed. “But I will be in the best of
hands, I assure you.”
Then silently she shut the door.