The Waiting Room
~ Chapter Ninety-Four
Roux's Anger, Barrie's Fairy
“Inspector
Abberline?”
Fred Abberline tried to bring himself out of
his self-induced opium fog. The aftereffects of the drug clung to
him like a child to its' mother. Every muscle protested as he
attempted to move, his breathing shallow and raspy.
“Inspector
Abberline? You must wake up.”
The Irish brogue assaulted
Abberline’s senses as its' owner demanded his attention. The
detective was then being shaken as his name was repeated for a third
time. Abberline brushed away the offending hand as he finally came
upright in his chair.
“Here,” the same voice said as a
cup of coffee was placed in the space before him. With disgust he
pushed it aside, the brown liquid spilling over the rim of the cup.
“I do not need that,” Abberline informed the voice.
Bejesus, Abberline thought to himself, even his eyelids refused to
cooperate as he tried to open them and look to see who was so
inclined to have his company.
A sound of something heavy
being thrown to the table caused him to jump back, fearing that
someone was now wishing him harm.
“You best be pulling
yourself together Inspector. As of this morning there is less than a
dozen of us left.”
Abberline finally focused on the face of
the man who spoke. At first the figure was blurred, then slowly began
to distinguish itself into the form of Roux.
Abberline let go
a disgruntled sigh as he covered his face, rubbing, trying to come to
his senses.
“What do you want?” he asked the gypsy from
behind his hands.
“Your time has come, Inspector. You are in
charge now. The enemy from without has taken Constable Crane.”
Abberline shot a look to the Irishman. To his surprise, Roux,
normally easy going and laid back, now had a concerned look upon his
face. For the gypsy, the disappearances had become a serious
situation.
He then let his eyes fall to the black bag Roux
had pounded upon the table.
Constable Crane’s investigation
bag.
“I do not know what is becoming of us. I do not know
were they are going.” Roux gestured towards the other men. “I
only know that my time is soon.”
Abberline leaned back into
his chair, hands on his thighs as he digested the gypsy’s words.
“And are you afraid Roux? Do you fear the unknown?”
“Yes,” he said truthfully. “I fear that which has
happened here. It is one thing to be caught in something of your own
making, of trying to make responsible decisions or deciding upon to
go left or right on the path of life. But this…this is something
that involves him.” Roux pointed upward. As if he would see
something, Abberline let his eyes drift up to the ceiling, knowing
that Roux spoke of Depp.
“He left us here long ago,
forgotten more or less. How long have you been here, Inspector? This
Room…it has been all I have known for close to five years.”
“Are you saying you do not wish to leave The Room? That The
Room has become your home. We all had a life, Roux…long before this,
but you are choosing this place over your old life?”
“How
can you be sure that it is our old life we return to, Inspector? Of
course if given a choice I would return to my boat, the river, my
people. I would not stay in this Room one second longer than I had to
if I knew that open arms were waiting for me…the kiss of the woman
I love…her body to make love to under the full moon…the laughter
of family and friends. Who would not choose such a life?”
Roux
paused to let his words sink in.
“But is that what I will
find tomorrow, Inspector? Tomorrow when you wake and you find
…what?…my guitar propped in the corner next to the box of
chocolate covered strawberries. Will I be returned to my houseboat as
it sails lazily upon the river? Will I rejoice to find myself among
friends, singing and dancing along the banks of Les Maraudes? Or
better yet, seated at the counter in that little shop sipping rich,
dark hot chocolate?”
Abberline could not answer.
Roux’s
patience had worn thin. “Where is your sight now, Inspector? Did you
dream of us while you slept with your demons? Did an angel come to
you on opium clouds and whisper our future?”
The Inspector
remained silent.
“I thought not,” the gypsy said before
turning hard on his heel to return to his table of dwindling friends.
Abberline watched as Roux snatched up his guitar and
strummed, lost in his thoughts of tomorrow, fearing what he could not
control. The inspector reached up and dragged Crane’s bag towards
him, dropping it into his lap. He paused just a moment, then wrenched
the leather case open revealing all of Crane’s unusual tools and
devices.
He was caught up in trying to identify the different
instruments when an Irish lilt called his name. But he knew by the
tone that it was not Roux.
“Yes, Mr. Barrie.” Abberline
looked up to the author. “What can I do for you?” As he asked the
question he saw that Barrie’s hands were burdened with a radio.
“I think you should listen to this, Inspector.” Barrie
said as he sat the device on the table.
“Isn’t this
Commander Armacost’s?” Abberline inquired. Barrie nodded.
Abberline shook his head. “It’s no use, Mr. Barrie. The
thing only spews out gibberish. Only the astronaut understood what he
claims was Emily. All anyone else could hear was static and popping
noises.”
“Aye, Inspector.” Barrie agreed. “To the
human ear it is that. But…to Alice…well…she says she
understands it.”
Abberline watched as Barrie waved towards
the top of the bookshelves. A soft glow emitted from above as the
fairy Alice appeared, shy and cautious. The inspector had forgotten
all about Tinkerbell’s little sister. But then again, he had no
reason to remember her except that Barrie had arrived with her in his
pocket, thinking he had brought his favored Tinkerbell, instead to
discover he had captured the fairy’s sibling.
The inspector
looked from Alice to Barrie.
“She understands the voice on
the radio? She understands this so-called Emily?”
“Yes,
Inspector.” Barrie assured him. “She understands. And she says
what Emily is saying is something you…we…should know.”
Abberline looked back up to the top shelf as the tiny imp
hung back among the books.
“Then by all mean, Mr. Barrie.
Let us hear what your little fairy has to say.”
And with a
wave of his hand and a quiet, coaxing voice, Barrie called Alice to
come down.