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Gadofalo

Visiting Hours

Part One

One Year Served

John Gadolfalo was sentenced to fifteen to twenty years for racketeering just as he expected. His lawyers had tried to plea bargain but the prosecutors refused, insisting that they'd rather let the judge decide. Translation? They had him dead in their sights with an air-tight case and had no reason to give him anything. In addition they had enough evidence on his underlings and associates to send them all away. He would serve the time. Period. They all would.

A year after the verdict and sentencing, a nothing Tuesday, Gadolfalo was taken from his cell and told he had a visitor. Expecting to see one of his lawyers regarding the appeal, he was surprised to see Robin sitting on the other side of the glass, quietly waiting.

Sitting and picking up the intercom/phone the convicted organized crime boss nodded, "Hey, kid. 'Good to see you—how y'doin?"

"Hi Mr. Gadolfalo, I'm okay, how are you holding up in here?" the man shrugged; it was what it was. "I read that your wife said you were bored and that you like to read so I brought you a couple of books. I hope that was okay." He held up the new John Grisham and the latest Stephen King. "You don't mind, do you? I could bring some magazines or the Times or something if you'd like that better."

John shook his head. This kid, this Robin kid—he came all the way to State Pen to ask if he needed something to read? What did the kid really want? "You drove two hours to ask me if I want a newspaper?" But… "Wait, you even old enough to drive? You look a little young for that, how come you're here?"

"I told you I'd come to see you, don't you remember?"

That was true, at the trial, the kid had told him that he'd visit but John had assumed that it was just words, maybe a good intention or curiosity that went a little too far. But, damn here he was, sitting in front of him, just like he said he would. "What, you want to ask me some more questions, ask what I know about some of the opened cases GPD has on it's books—that your angle?"

Robin just looked at him for a couple of beats and his face had this look on it like maybe his feelings were hurt. "I don't have an angle. Honest. I just thought you're an interesting man and I'd like to be able to talk to you sometimes, that's all." He frowned. "If you don't want to, that's okay."

"Nah, s'down, kid. You came all this way, yeah, I'd like to have someone to talk to. Did you know they have me in solitary for a while until the guys here get used to me bein' around." And his wife was filing for divorce and refusing to let the kids visit, the bitch.

"You sure you don't mind?"

"Of course I'm sure." Gadofalo shifted a little; what was he going to say to this kid? He wasn't like a normal kid, not by any stretch. He was like one of those fifteen year olds who you got the felling were like really forty year old midgets. He liked kids, he loved them but this one—he just wasn't your run of the mill, plays soccer, takes out the trash kid. So you didn't answer, how'd you get here? Your old man hanging around waiting foir you or listening in or something?"

"Batman? No, nothing like that. I kind of have permission, it's not official or anything, but I can drive and usually the cops look the other way so I can work."

"Special perks, huh? Well, what the hell, I guess you've earned it. The press find out and you'll be grounded, though, right?" Robin half laughed and nodded. If his bending the driving rules got out there'd be one of those stupid media storms over nothing; he was a better driver than almost anyone on the roads, had passed all the tests and had even taken extreme driving tests. He could handle a car no problem but it wouldn't matter. "So—how's school going for you?"

"It's okay, boring."

"Yeah, I guess you have bigger fish to fry than geometry, right?"

"I guess, but mostly I don't have all that much in common with the rest of the students and I can't talk about a lot of things with them so I'm sort of an outsider there."

Sure, that made sense. "You get good grades?"

"If I don't make honor roll I can't be Robin but the classes are boring, too easy."

He could see that. Robin was a smart kid, any jerk could see that. "Batman know you're here?"

"No."

Just 'no'—so the kid snuck out without permission and he didn't like school; nothing unusual about that. "You gonna get in trouble for comin' to see me?"

"No, it'll be okay. He knows I can take care of myself and I mentioned that I spoke with you that day in the courthouse." Another smile and half laugh. "Besides, it's not like I've never been inside a prison before."

John leaned back in his chair, liking the small piece of smart-ass sass that made him seem like an almost normal kid. Robin reminded him a little of his own son, even though Frankie wasn't ever going to get onto any honor roll. One of these days he'd see his kid again, damned if he wouldn't…"So, you have a girlfriend?" Robin blushed and didn't answer—so either he did and was doing the deed when he shouldn't be or there was some girl who wouldn't give him the time of day. Kids, they were all the same—all right, no they weren't but some things were universal and embarrassment about their sex lives sure were. "Girls—they're another species but I tell 'ya—you find the right one and she'll make all the crap worthwhile."

"I guess."

"'Ya get the wrong one and it'll make this place seem like a vacation, believe me on this one." Robin nodded with a small smile like he was thinking back to some recent Saturday night or something along those lines. The silence stretched on a few seconds too long and John shifted in his chair, giving Robin a hard look. "So, you want to tell me why you're really here?" The pause continued. "The Bat leaning on you? He doin' anything he shouldn't be? Cause if he is, I don't care who he is, I'll have my boys make sure he knows that ain't acceptable, y'hear me?" Hell, who hadn't read the rumors about the Bat and Robin? You'd have to be living under one big rock not to know about the gossip.

Robin gave him a disgusted look. "God—no. Gross. That's all bullshit, he's never touched me—he likes women too much." The kid looked at Gadofalo. "Me, too, liking girls, I mean." Oh crap. "You won't tell anyone I said that, will you? The press—it would be a nightmare.

"Nah, why would I say anything to anybody; it's no one's business, right? Ah hell, kid, if I looked like you do, like you're gonna look in a few years, I bet you won't have any trouble getting any girl you set your mind to."

"I don't know about that."

The Boss smiled at the boy's blush; yeah, he was getting some. Kids, you gotta love 'em. "So…?"

"So…nothing. I just wondered if you were doing okay, that's all."

"Uh-huh, I'm doing all right. You gotta get going?"

Robin nodded. "Would you mind if I come back?"

"I'd like that, if you'd come back to see me but you don't have to bring me anything, spending your money—it ain't right."

"I don't mind."

"Nah, it's not right. I'm gonna make sure that you get paid back for whatever you spend, I'll have my accountant send you money and I insist about that—you're just a kid, you shouldn't spend your allowance on me." He held up his hand to stop Robin's protest. "Next time bring me the new Pat Conroy, okay? And see if you can arrange a subscription for me to the Gotham Times and the Post, clear it through the warden if you have to."

"I can't. I mean I'd like to but it's against the regs, you could be getting messages in the personals or the want ads—sorry, but I'll bring you any books you want, if that's okay."

"Yeah, sure, you do what you can—you're a good kid, I appreciate this and I won't forget it."

Robin stood up when the guard walked back in, their time was up. "It's nothing, really."

"Of course it is and I don't forget when someone is good to me. Ask anybody; I remember."

TBC