The Waiting Room
~ Chapter Ninety-Eight
If Tomorrow Never Comes
Abberline
stepped back to Barrie, taking the guitar.
So Roux was gone
as well. The Irishman had feared what waited for him. So out of
character, the inspector thought. The carpenter seemed to always
enjoy life.
Perhaps that was the answer. Not knowing what
waited for him, if all that would become of him was a black void,
never being able to live and love again.
“Talk to me, Roux,”
Abberline whispered as he caressed the guitar. “Where have you
gone? What’s become of you?” Mayhap, he surmised, another
dream…mayhap Michael Roux would come to him in a dream.
But
why would he? Abberline questioned. With a sigh, the inspector placed
the instrument on the table, next to the evidence box.
“Sorry
to be a bother, Inspector,” It was Barrie. Abberline glanced in the
writer’s direction. The Scotsman was nodding to the other side of
the Room. The inspector followed Barrie’s direction to find Jung
handling Lt. Victor’s weapon.
“Mr. Jung!” Abberline
cried out as he crossed the Room. “I must insist you surrender the
weapon. It is evidence.”
In an instant Jung pulled the
hammer, directing it in Fred’s direction. Abberline stopped cold as
he stared down the barrel of gun.
“Finders, keepers…isn’t
that what they say, Freddie boy?” Jung tormented, waving the gun. “I
have to say, I found it, I keep it and who in this Room is going to
stop me?” Jung gave a slow, knowing smile, almost evil.
“What
d’bloody ‘ell?” Sparrow’s voice filtered to them. Abberline’s
eyes glanced to the pirate who was pushing himself away from the bar,
a mug of rum in one hand, waving his free hand about like a dandy.
“What difference does it make, Inspector?”
Sparrow sidled
up next to Jung. Unsure of the pirate, Jung stepped to his left,
giving the man a sideways glance, uncertain nervousness coming over
him. The drug dealer did not trust the pirate as far as he could
throw him. One never knew whose side Jack was on.
Jack waved
the mug towards Abberline, his free hand rested on his hip.
“I
must implore you, Inspector,” Jack began, leaning a wee bit forward
in Abberline’s direction. “You waste too much time and effort in
this misfortunate situation. It has become quite clear that no matter
what effort is put forth, each and every one of us will eventually be
removed from this hell hole.” He brought the mug to his lip,
downing a swallow, rum streaming down his chin. With a satisfied sigh
he brought down the mug, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.
“I
say ye all belly up to the bar, enjoy the repast of wine and rum and
whiskey and forget about tomorrow…and the next day for that matter.
‘Tis not a thing one can do. Not you, nor you,” he directed the
mug at Abberline, then Jung.
“And certainly I cannot do a
damn bloody thing about it all” He brought the mug back to his
chest, the rum sloshing onto his shirt.
“Bloody ‘ell!”
He exclaimed looking to the wet spot on the front of him. “Got to
wear this bleeding thing all day now.”
Jack sniffed at
nothing in particular, his bloodshot eyes attempting to focus on the
two men.
“Tis nothing ye can do gentlemen. Let it be.
That’s the choice we have of course. We can try to fight this,”
His hand came off his hip, making a wide arc indicating the Room.
“Can try to figure out what the bloody ‘ell is going on and
just go on making our onesies miserable…or…”
He took
another swig of rum.
“Or we can choose to accept the fact
that we have no control. Fate. Destiny. Karma. The stars have chosen
our paths and there is no changing their minds. So drink up and enjoy
the little time we three have, would be my suggestion. I leave you to
your choices.”
Sparrow bowed, giving a half attempt to
bring his hands up in prayer, but impeded by the mug. He gave one
final draw on the cup, draining it dry, smacking his lips and turned
on his heel,back towards the bar.
“Me thinks I could use a
refill. Think I’ll be helping meself to that fine aged rum I saw.”
Abberline and Jung watched as the pirate sauntered -- no, he
swayed—back to the bar.
When Abberline looked back at Jung
he was surprised to find the drug dealer had dropped his arm. He
heard him set the hammer back into a safe position.
Jung
flipped the gun to his other hand, holding it by the barrel, offering
it to Abberline.
The inspector’s eyebrows shot up at the
move.
“The Captain’s speech moved you, Mr. Jung?
Interesting development.” he said as he accepted the weapon.
“Well, Inspector. It was like he said. Enjoy the day.
Tomorrow…hell…I don’t want to think about tomorrow.”
Jung
left Abberline and joined Sparrow at the bar. He watched as Jack
poured Jung a drink and together they offered one another a toast.
“To today!” Jung shouted.
“And damn all to hell
tomorrow, for it shall never come!” Sparrow cried out.
The
pirate’s words turned Abberline’s blood cold as he realized…this
time tomorrow, the three of them…Jung, Sparrow, and himself…would
be gone.