Disclaimer: All the characters are owned by DC Comics and Time/Warner; this is an original story that does not intend to infringe on their copyright.
Caring
By
Peggie
The young woman was walking across the beach to join the party of friends having a picnic around the other side of the jetty. In the distance near the abandoned cafe she saw the two figures sat on the old wooden bench. They caught her attention because they seemed so out of place. The man was dressed in a dark blue suite, far too formal for beachwear; the boy was just so still. She though she recognised them and was about to call out but she hesitated as she saw the mans head drop into his hands. He seemed to be crying, yet she couldn't believe that to be the case, in all the time she'd known him she'd never seen him anything other than calm, efficient and always in control.
She could hear her friends voices laughing and joking as they enjoyed the warm sun of a late Fall afternoon. Their laughter seemed out of place when she looked at the two sad figures in the distance.
The man was still looking down at his feet but he had removed one hand from his face. He placed his arm around the boy and hugged him. The boy remained impassive, still gazing with unseeing eyes at the ocean.
Leslie hesitated only slightly before walking towards the pair. As she got close she could see that the man was speaking to the boy, but as expected getting no response. She knew that the boy had been silent for almost seven months now. He had not spoken or interacted with anyone since he had witnessed his parent's brutal murder. The only time his voice was heard was late at night when he awoke screaming from dreadful nightmares. Then as the man comforted him the boy would retreat back into his near catatonic state.
The man spent his whole day and sometimes much of the night single-handed caring for the boy. Day in day out. Leslie knew that he took the boy everywhere with him. As he cooked meals the boy sat in the kitchen. When he did the laundry the boy was sat in a chair next to the washing machine. When he went out to get groceries the boy went too; and all the time the man carried on a never-ending conversation. Telling the boy stories, updating him on news, just discussing anything he thought might interest the boy. At meal times he was sat on the mans lap and spoon fed like a baby. At night the boy slept in a small room with a connecting door through to the mans room, so that when the nightmares started help was at hand. She had marvelled at the man's devotion to a boy who was not even his own son. She knew many parents who would be unable to cope with such a traumatised child.
As she got closer she could hear the mans voice, it sounded so unlike him, so sad, so full of despair that it brought a lump to her throat. She stopped to listen to his words, not to eavesdrop, but to understand, to help. She knew that if she asked him outright he would never admit to being anything but in control.
"I just wish I knew if I was helping you, but after all this time ..and there's no change…no improvement. The doctor wanted me to have you admitted to the hospital, but I've seen that place." his voice caught. "..They do their best ..but... I will not have you locked in a room like that." his voice was desperate, almost angry. "They can look after you I know that, but they don't understand.. they won't ...won't love you." He hesitated, "My father always said love could break a man if it was taken away from him; but when given freely it could make a man whole. I just wish I could give you enough love to make you whole.
Some days I don't think I can go on... but if I didn't what would happen to you ... to me? I can not just walk away that would be letting us both down.. I couldn't live with that!!
People are kind but when there is no quick cure they feel awkward, they stop visiting, they stop calling. She heard him laugh, not a pleasant laugh, but one full of self-mocking and despair. "Do you know some days I ring the railway companies information line and ask for information on getting to some obscure town on the West Coast just to hear someone's voice, …just to have a conversation with someone?"
The man started to cry again, "I am sorry, Thomas, Martha.. but if there's no improvement in Bruce's condition soon I will have to put him in that place. I don't think I can do this on my own for much longer." He whispered.
Leslie felt so ashamed of herself. It had been over a week since she had rung to enquire about the boy and nearly two months since she had visited him. Never once in that time had she considered Alfred's needs. He had always seemed like a rock, always strong.
Yes she was busy at the clinic but even on her days off, she had failed to realise that they needed help. Her job was stressful, caring for sick children always was, that was the nature of the task. But she had help, colleges to talk to, she had days off, it wasn't twenty-four hours, day after day none stop. Not like the man's task and now Alfred was at breaking point. She had seen the same thing happen to other carers. Everyone full of good intentions to start with. Everyone offering help and support then after a while it all fell to one person. Her heart felt heavy, tears started to flow down her cheeks.
He was still unaware of her presence, until she squatted down in front of him and touched his hand. His head snapped up and his tear filled eyes locked on to hers.
"How long...have you been there." he asked fumbling in his pocket for tissue to wipe his eyes.
"Long enough Alfred."
"I can cope.., he doesn't need committing.., he needs to be at home, where he is loved." Alfred pleaded.
Leslie touched his cheek and nodded, "I agree," she said. "But you also need help. When was the last time you had an hour away from Bruce?"
Alfred shrugged. Leslie knew the answer though it was seven months ago. "Look, why don't you go to the restroom and wash up. Then take yourself off for a walk. I'll stay here with Bruce. Later we will go back to the mansion and talk about how I can help both of you."
The man just nodded. He squatted down in front of the boy, straightened the boy's coat and said, "Be a good lad for Dr Leslie." He then stood up quickly and walked away.
"It's OK Bruce he'll be back soon. He's just not very well at the moment, nothing for you to worry about dear, because all he needs to get better is help from his friends and some rest." Leslie saw the boys head turn slightly and his usually sightless eyes follow the man. Her heart leapt; there was hope for the boy's recovery, for both of their recoveries!