Through the Eyes of a Child
Jake Nobody had been trying to sleep, when he felt someone jab his side. "Hey, Nobody!" said a familiar voice. Jake ignored it, making sure his eyes were shut tight. "Nobody!" repeated the voice, as someone shook him roughly. Still Jake ignored them, clutching his teddy bear closely to him.
"Wake up, loser!" shouted the voice at last, and Jake caught his breath as he was suddenly kicked hard in the side. His eyes opened in time to see another kick aimed at his head, which knocked him off the bed and onto the floor. He lay there gasping for breath, his head whirling.
"You deaf, you little runt?" demanded the same voice, as Jake was picked up by his hair. He shut his eyes in pain and began struggling, kicking out at his assailant, but was held down by another pair of hands. He opened his eyes to stare into the leering, unpleasant face of Carl Powell, the oldest kid in the orphanage and its resident bully. A psychiatrist might have argued that those two things were related – Carl felt insecure about not being adopted when every other kid younger than him was, so he took his rage and frustration out on them. But Jake was no psychiatrist – he was just an eight-year-old boy, and all he knew was that Carl picked on him more than anyone else. Probably because of his name.
Jake Nobody wasn't Jake's real name, but he couldn't remember what his real name was. Nor could he remember anything about his life before arriving at the orphanage a few months ago. He saw hazy glimpses of familiar people and places in his dreams, but he couldn't identify any of these. Nobody had come looking for him since he had been dropped off, either. And nobody at the orphanage had any idea where he had come from or who he really was. And so they had called him Nobody.
"Guess what I just heard, Nobody?" muttered Carl, as two of his supporting goons held Jake firmly.
Jake was silent. He didn't talk if he could help it, and he certainly wasn't going to play a game pandering to the bully. "I heard you're getting outta here," continued Carl. "But you ain't being adopted. Not after that stunt you pulled last week."
Jake remained silent, but he knew what Carl was talking about. Carl had been picking on a group of much smaller children, and Jake had interfered by punching him in the face. Jake wasn't very big himself, but he was able to hold his own in a full-scale fight, which is what the confrontation soon became. Carl had blamed Jake for the uproar, and the head of the orphanage had believed him, since Jake had been quiet, which the head interpreted as sullen, ever since his arrival here. Jake had heard the head talking about him with the other administrators outside his office, using words like "troublesome boy," and "problem child" with "severe behavioral issues." He knew those hadn't been good words, but he assumed his punishment would be something like being isolated from the other boys, which suited him just fine. But apparently it was going to be worse than that, assuming this wasn't just some cruel prank by Carl.
Carl leaned forward so that Jake could smell his bad breath distinctly. "I heard…they're sending you to the nuthouse. They're sending you to Arkham."
Jake just stared at him. "Oh, c'mon, Arkham Asylum!" said Carl, frowning at the lack of reaction from Jake. "The looney bin where they lock up crazy criminals and throw away the key! I've heard the kinda stuff they do to the crazies – electric shocks and being hosed down with ice water. And there's a lotta bad people in there, people who'll carve you up just for looking at 'em!"
"Yeah, there's the Joker," spoke up one of the goons. "You see pictures of the people he kills in the papers. The dead bodies are all smiling. It's the scariest thing ever. So's he, if you look at the pictures. That creepy clown face always grinning at you…"
"They also got Two-Face," said the other goon. "One half of his face is all normal, but the other is all gross and disgusting. He was burned or got acid thrown on it or something, and it drove him crazy. He could decide to kill you just by flipping a coin."
"There's also that Poison Ivy," said the first goon. "Scariest woman I've ever seen, with her green skin, she ain't even human! She's like a real witch who can control plants, and she likes growing killer plants and feeding people to 'em!"
"And the Scarecrow," said Carl, smiling at Jake. "His idea of fun is frightening people to death with a gas that gets inside your head and drives you crazy. Makes your deepest, darkest fears appear in front of your eyes. What's yours, Nobody?" he asked, grabbing him by the collar and raising his fist.
"Mr. Powell, that's enough," said a voice from the doorway. They all turned to see the head of the orphanage standing in the light from the hall. "Back to bed, all of you. Except you, Mr. Nobody," he said, as Jake tried to climb back into his cot. "You're to come with me. Please collect your things."
Jake looked around. The only things he had were the clothes on his back, and his teddy bear, which was something he had been holding when he first woke up in the orphanage. The bear wore a shabby jacket with the initials J.N. on it, which is where Jake had gotten his name.
"Right, come along," said the head, taking Jake by the arm and leading him from the room.
"Enjoy the madhouse, Nobody!" laughed Carl. "Hope you've had a nice life, because it's over now!"
The mocking laughter of him and his cronies followed Jake out of the room and down the stairs. The head led him to the front door of the orphanage, where some men in white coats waited.
"Now Mr. Nobody, in light of your recent behavior, we think some time in residential therapy might be best for you," said the head, calmly. "To help you deal with some social and anger issues. You're being taken to Arkham Asylum, the finest mental hospital in the country, and it's hoped there you'll find the treatment you need to grow up into a normal, healthy, productive young man."
Jake stared at him, shivering in fear and clutching his teddy bear. He didn't know what to say, and it was clear words would have no impact on his fate – the head had already made his decision without his input. So he said nothing as the men in white coats pulled him into the waiting van outside. They sat Jake down in the back, which looked like a cage, with bars all over the windows, and then climbed into the front and drove off.
Jake stood up, watching the rain lash the barred windows as he saw the orphanage grow smaller and smaller in the distance. He looked around at the urban gloom of Gotham City, its bright lights making the city look even more miserable in the pelting drizzle.
And then they were out on the freeway, driving away from the center of the city and towards the outskirts. The lights grew fewer, and the surroundings grew darker, like they were driving through a long tunnel. And then Jake could see through the window, perched on a hill, the jagged, Gothic outline of Arkham Asylum, a hulking rock of a building standing firm against the storm. Lightning flashed over it, silhouetting it, as the van drove through the gates and parked in the driveway out front.
"Is Dr. Leland here?" said one of the men in white coats to the receptionist, as the other unlocked the back of the van and dragged Jake into the building.
She shook her head. "Went home a few hours ago. Who's the kid?"
"New patient," replied the man. "Where should we put him?"
The receptionist sighed, looking over her sheet. "Try Tetch's old cell for now," she muttered, pointing down the hall. "Number 1865."
The men pulled Jake down the corridor as he stared around him, shivering in cold and fear. They unlocked the door to the cell block and led him to the indicated room, pushing him gently inside, locking the door, and leaving without another word.
Jake stood there, looking around the tiny room. There was a cot in one corner and a toilet in the other, but the cell was empty aside from that. He crept over to the bed, pulling the ragged blanket over his body and curling up, trying to shut his eyes, fall asleep, and whatever he did, not think about his situation.
It was about 3 AM when the laughter started. It was unlike any laughter Jake had ever heard, and it made him shudder in fear – a hysterical, maniacal cacophony of sound, each shriek more high-pitched than the last.
And then he heard an annoyed voice roar, "Swear to God, J, if you don't shut up, I'll rip out your voicebox!"
"Like to see you try, Harv!" retorted the laughing voice.
"Could be worse, Harvey – could be Harley's happy noises," said a female voice.
"Oh, those'll come in a second, Pammie, when Harley ain't got her mouth full anymore."
"Oh God, too much information, J!" snapped the female voice. "Just shut up, would ya?"
"I'm fear gassing the lot of you if you don't all shut up!" said another annoyed voice in the cell next to Jake.
"Nice try, Professor, but it don't work on me!" sneered the laughing voice. "But I would be grateful if you all would shut up – you're ruining the romantic mood!" it chuckled.
"Yeah, how's a gal supposed to concentrate, you jerks?" snapped another female voice.
"Just get back to work, Harley," commanded the laughing voice. "At least your useless mouth is good for something besides yammering stupid things in an annoying voice."
"Really, Mr. J? You think I'm good?" asked the female voice excitedly.
"Well, I wouldn't say good exactly…not terrible, though."
"Oh, Mr. J! You know just what to say to a gal!"
"For God's sake, Harley, do us all a favor and bite down!" said the first female voice.
"Don't listen to the Plant Lady, Harl…eeee!" There was a high-pitched shriek followed by a roar of pain. "Holy crap, she was just joking! Oh God, why would you do that?!"
"Sorry, Mr. J! I thought it might be kinky or something…ow!"
Jake heard a slap, followed by a shriek of pain, and then the female voice said, dreamily, "Oh, Mr. J! Please hurt me some more!"
Jake heard more punches and cries on both sides, but he couldn't tell whether they were of pain or pleasure. Not that an eight-year-old could imagine why anyone would find pain pleasurable, and the truth is, the whole situation only increased his terror. He clutched his teddy bear as he lay wide awake for the rest of the night, wondering how he was going to survive in this horrible place.