To Walk with Fear
Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or any of its characters, all of them are the property of DC Comics. No copyright infringement intended.
Chapter 1: They called him Ichabod (Caleb Wallace)
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It's amazing what fear does. Turns brave men into cowering children, sends hardened criminals scurrying like schoolgirls. And I'm feeling the effects of fear right now. Trembling heartbeat, quickening breaths, the world around me is swimming, hostile, unfamiliar...
In order to make any sense of this, I have to go back to the beginning, back to the first day I met "him."
September of last year, just outside of Gotham City
Last year, I was standing at Combs blvd., right outside of a dirt road bus stop. I felt like hell, half-asleep and functioning on a donut and some milk, a makeshift breakfast. My new school wasn't that far of a walk, but my legs were aching that morning. I adjusted the collar on my buttoned shirt, not bothering to tuck it in my slacks; it wasn't like the other kids were going to care. This was my first day at Kane High School, I couldn't believe this place resided next to Gotham City; it seemed so rural in comparison, dirt road suburbs. As the bus came into view, I fiddled with the straps of my book bag as I let out a drawn out yawn. The bus came to a screeching halt, stopping a small ways away. The doors swung open with loud thud, when I got on, I immediately gave my papers to the bus driver and picked a seat near the back.
The ride was brief, a five minute tour of staring at houses and grass. When the bus reached its destination, I was treated to a glimpse of the new institute. It was an old structure, classical to a degree; at least it wasn't musty old wooden shack. The old bus driver pulled the lever, allowing the doors to fling open; its trademark slam served as a wake up alarm for the sleeping passengers. Getting off the bus, I made my way to the entrance of the school. "Well, well, well, what shall we do on our first day of school?" I recited, recalling an old story his mother used to read to me when I was little. That said, I took my first steps in the building.
The moment I stepped inside, I pulled out the schedule from my backpack, printed on a bright yellow sheet of paper. In the top left corner was my name: Caleb Mortimer Wallace. God, I love my name. Scrolling over the small details, I got right to my schedule. First block: Algebra 1, easy enough. Second block: Chemistry, which wasn't too difficult with a little help. Third block: Language Arts 12th, a stroll. Fourth block: Computer Applications, a gleeful hour of typing practice. Now that I knew what I was taking, I needed to know where the hell the classes were.
The first day of school is always the scariest, and it didn't help that the school year had already started. No familiar faces to turn to and inside a labyrinth of hallways and lockers. All those years spent at my old school, gathering a reputation, sucking up to staff members, developing my status, all amounted to nothing. This didn't bother me, I wasn't about to wrack my nerves over being in a different school building. But little did I know, I was about to meet someone that would change my life forever.
Second Block
Ms. Crawford's Chemistry Class, room 206
As the tardy bell rang, Ms. Crawford called me to the front of the classroom. My Algebra teacher introduced me himself last block, so this was my first time performing the introduction. The layout of the class was in blacktop tables, something I was used to at my old institute. I stood in front of the classroom, scanning my attentive audience that was already sizing me up. I could see that some of them weren't too impressed with my clothing choices, formal wear and all. "Good morning, I'm Wallace, Caleb Wallace." I introduced in a smooth and confident tone, like an actor I saw on TV. It was my attempt at regaining some 'cool points' with them. But alas, my opening was met with…
"Bond, James Bond." I heard someone jokingly repeat my delivery, gaining a few chuckles out of the class. I grimaced inside as I looked across the room. I was clearly in a class full of geniuses, who had already labeled me prep. Even though the chuckles soon died down pretty quick, I was pretty irritated by their maturity level. Therefore, I couldn't help but add, "Wow, I can tell this is gonna be fun." I didn't care whether or not they caught my sarcasm. I could already tell this class was going to be a chore to go to.
But out of the group of grinning faces, there was one that didn't seem at all amused. I didn't notice him at first glance because he was sitting in the corner of the room. He had a lanky frame, squared off glasses, short auburn hair, and wore some pretty bland Salvation Army clothes. No one was sitting next to him. Judging from first glance, he was the bookworm of the class, that one dork with the weird habits that nobody liked.
"Pick any seat you like." said Ms. Crawford as she rearranged some papers on her desk. Since the class just revealed their idiocy, I decided why not sit next to the bookworm? At least he had some dignity. So I picked up my book bag and made my way to the vacant seat, muting out any of the comments my classmates made. The only remark that stood out was, "oh great, he's sitting with Ichabod". I don't know why they were so fixated on the two of us. I'm guessing they thought we were cousins or something stupid like that.
I know I sound as if I'm being harsh and condescending to my old classmates, but their constant spouting of insults like, 'Ichabod Brain' and 'The Scarecrow found a brain!' killed whatever decency I tried to muster towards them. I'm not sure why they labeled me 'brains' though; I wasn't nearly as dorky as Crane. It's funny really, they always insulted us; but when test time came around, we were the first guys they'd cheat off of. Well, it's not like any of that matters now…
When I first met Crane, he was a complete recluse. Throughout the first part of class, I couldn't get him to say a single word. He would stare at me through the corner of his peripherals. At the time, I thought it was because he felt he was smarter than me. I liked that, it gave me a challenge to prove that I was competent. Unfortunately, the class was working on an experiment which dealt with separation of mixtures. Basically, I knew nothing of chemistry, which was my biggest concern. However, I figured that if I couldn't impress Crane with Chemistry knowledge, I would just find another way. I figured that, in any class, you need at least one ally/friend; someone that you can rely on in case things go-south. So instead, I basically whispered some snarky comments about some airhead girls and free-riding jocks throughout the first half of class in his ear.
Eventually, it was time for lunch break. Usually, that was breath of fresh air for the students. But when I turned to Crane, I saw him cringe. It wasn't until I got there that I found out why. The cuisine of that day was decent, better than what the other kids were griping. I got some mashed potatoes & gravy, some chicken nuggets, some rolls, fries and some chocolate milk. But as I searched for a vacant seat, a half eaten nugget whizzed right past me; instinctively, my eyes followed the nugget as it struck the back of Crane's head. Crane didn't even acknowledge the fact that he'd been hit, he just concentrated on the book in his lap, ignoring his tormentors. I traced the direction from where the half-eaten piece was thrown. And when I saw the source, well, that marks the time I met Bo Griggs.
You know that one person you see that you just know is a complete twat? Bo Griggs personified. He ran with a posse full of failed abortions, all equally as stupid as him. He always wore a varsity jacket with his name neatly signed in cursive (like that fool knew cursive), and had this brunette mullet. In short, he was the stereotypical jock, the guy that kept getting slaps on the wrists as punishment, so he thought he could get away with anything. It's a shame when the school system itself sets guys like him up for a fall. The minute they get out in the world, they're nothing but fish out of water. They can't cope, they do something stupid, dead or jail; the end. But I digress…
"Hey new guy," Griggs called out, signaling for me to come over, "I see you don't know the score around here." His tone implied superiority, as if I was a twit. "Nerds like him," he dabbed a finger at Crane, "are people you want to avoid. You start hanging with nerds, you're gonna BE a nerd. Understand?" a threat. "Hang with us, do what we tell you, and you'll be alright, no problems." He was basically offering a lapdog deal.
My response was simple and effective, something that rode on the lines of "Kiss my ass." And I sat with Crane anyway. I was not about to be Griggs, or anyone else's, doormat. It was at this point that Crane finally started acknowledging my existence. I guess Crane was going by 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend' adage. It seemed me standing up to Griggs like that must have struck a chord with him. Aside from some barking from Griggs' table, lunch went smoother than anticipated. I can still recall our first talk. It was brief but memorable…
"So what is your name anyway? Ichabod sounds more like an insult." This was my idea of a conversation-starter.
"Crane, Jonathan Crane," his reply an echo of my class introduction. But I didn't sense any mockery, so I just ran with it.
"Jonathan Crane." I repeated, liked the sound of it.
"What books do you read?" Jonathan asked, his voice a dead giveaway to his social skills. You could tell that he didn't have friendly conversations often (at all). I could see it in his face; he was waiting for some remark about who reads books anymore.
"I don't read that many books," I stated honestly, "but I'm partial to Edgar Allan Poe… Pit and the Pendulum, Cask of Amontillado..." I added on, just to reinforce that I knew what I was talking about. The look on Jonathan's face was priceless. It was like he found a diamond amongst rubble. Someone else who actually reads in this stupid school, he must've been thinking. Unfortunately, this all took place near the wrong element and I had just made myself a new target. I knew from the start that Griggs was going to try to stir up some trouble, big whoop; 10 years later, me wealthy, him welfare. But I didn't think he was going to take it so far…
Dismissal
Third and fourth block went by easy enough. No drama to be had there, at least not yet. But when school let out, it was a whole different story. You see, in order to take the fastest route out of the school, I had to pass Crane's locker. And if anyone wanted to torment Crane, that was the time to do it. When class let out, I decided to stop by and talk to Jonathan for a bit. But, unbeknownst to me, Griggs and his boys were right behind me. The next thing I knew, Crane and I were slammed against the locker, a forearm pressed against my Adam's apple. Surprisingly, Bo Griggs was terrorizing Crane instead of me, instead I had one of his cronies. Everyone in the hall was watching. The staff was either too busy or didn't care, and the students were just eager to see someone get beat up.
"Looks like I got another scarecrow to slap around!" Griggs spat at me before turning his attention back to Crane. Jonathan was utterly helpless, his composure reduced to pathetic squirming. He was afraid. Now this would be the part where I revealed that I was a skilled martial artist and beat Bo into submission. Unfortunately, I didn't have those skills. Usually, I talked my way out of conflict, relied on fellow students or staff to intervene. No such luck here, no luck at all. The next five minutes or so consisted of Bo and his group basically throwing us around like ragdolls, slamming us into lockers, and kicking us around. Things I don't like to recall or go into detail about.
"See you around Ichabod and Sleepy Hollow!" He shouted as he left us in our misery. At the end of it, I had a nasty bruise on my cheek, clothes were wrinkled, and pride shattered. It took me a minute to get up, Griggs thought it would be funny to punt kick me in the liver before he left. I was beaten up on my first day of school, how embarrassing. Watching the two of us pick our sorry selves up off the ground must've been a sad sight indeed. I glanced to the side, to see how Crane was fairing. He didn't even seem to acknowledge that it even happened; he just picked up his books and continued on. "I guess that's our Brom Bones, huh?" I joked, realizing he was probably used to being terrorized. I knew this wasn't over, deep down; I didn't want it to be. I was pissed off that no one tried to stop them, that no one even lifted a finger to help us. Griggs was one of those athletes that felt he was untouchable, that he could do whatever he wanted to whoever. He was a failure in the making.
But what followed lifted my spirits. That Brom Bones line put a fragile smile on Crane's lips. I couldn't help but a feel a sense of satisfaction. I actually made him smile. "Want me to walk you home?" I offered. I knew it was a little out of the way, but I might as well get an idea of where my new comrade lived. What a mistake that would end up being…
Next Chapter: Social Phobia (Crane's perspective)