It's ten o'clock on Monday morning, and my crew of dock workers sits down for our coffee break. We've busy unloading crates from the liner Royal Star, out of India. Its canned goods though, so we don't have to work double-time, like we would if it were produce or something. As usual the kid, Ned Bates, has his nose in the newspaper.
"Says here Batman captured the Riddler last night" the kid says "That fruitcake was trying to make off with a million in gold bars from Gotham First National"
I laugh and shake my head, reaching across the table for the Sweet N Low. I can't stand the stuff, but Marie (my wife) says sugar's off my diet. The kid puts the paper down and asks me whats so funny.
"You BELIEVE in Batman, Kid?"
He seems puzzled by the question "What do you mean, 'do I believe in Batman'? That's like asking if I believe in Old Man Morales. I don't have to believe in him, he's THERE." He uses the nickname for Rico Morales, our foreman, who isn't much older than the Kid. Union contacts got Morales the job, but he's been pretty good about it.
"No it ain't" I reply, pouring a second packet of Sweet N Low into my coffee and taking a sip. I grimace. I don't care what the diet people say, anything this loaded with chemicals can't be healthy. I continue "It's more like believing in the tooth fairy, or Santy Claus, or an honest Gotham cop."
Everyone laughs except the Kid. "Well then who catches the psychos like the Joker or the Riddler?"
I snort. "Look Kid, Gordon probably has some squad of cops for bringing down those nutjobs, He keeps 'em quiet cause they probably violate the loonies constitutional rights or something. He figured he could start an urban legend to cover his tracks- get a guy in costume to pose for a few photos, maybe get the JLA to back up the story. I mean come on! A guy dressed up as a bat running around beating up crooks? No superpowers, but can take on an army of thugs every night? Ain't you a little old to believe in that kinda thing?"
Lonnie, the crane worker, speaks up. "I dunno, Pete. My cousin Charlie once saw the Batman. He and his girlfriend were out on the town, and they turn into an ally and see the Batman leaving a bunch of crooks tied up for the cops."
Ned nods his head and smiles at Lonnie. I don't think its just cause Lonnie's backing him up, neither. The Kid's new at this job and wants to be respected by us old hands. I can't blame him for acting like a puppy dog, I was just the same.
"Lonnie, weren't you just telling me the other day that Charlie's an alcoholic? Wasn't it possible he was walking around loaded that night? I mean, what did he really SEE that night?"
Lonnie screws up his face, the way he always does when he's thinking. "He said he saw a big black shape tying up the goons, and then it leapt off into the shadows"
I thump the table "See? Now, even if Charlie wasn't a lush, he didn't really SEE anything! Batman my butt!"
The whistle blows, signaling the end of our break. "Come on guys" I say, winking "Batman ain't here to unload that cargo."
Lunchtime rolls around.
I head to our crews usual spot to eat lunch with the guys. I sit down
between Lonnie and Clem, and open my lunch. Marie's on a health
kick- wants to lose thirty pounds. I don't know why- I think she
looks better this way. She ain't fat, exactly, she's- what's
the word?- zaftig. Yeah, real zaftig. But try telling that to a
woman- but only if your wills made out.
So, because Marie wants
to lose weight, I have a bag of carrot sticks and a cheese sandwich
for lunch. A man can't unload cargo for eight hours on carrot
sticks and cheese. I grab a couple of cookies from Clem and a bag of
chips from Lonnie. I notice the Kid looks down.
"Whats the matter, Kid? You ain't still mad about me ragging on you at break, are ya?"
The Kid shakes his head "Nah. But, a part of me really wants to believe in Batman, y'lnow? Wants to believe that someones out there trying to save Gotham, that there's someone out there protecting us."
I put my hand on his shoulder "Real world don't work that way, Ned. The only ones who're gonna save us are the good Lord and ourselves. Ya can't rely on some guy in tights to save you- this ain't Metropolis, you gotta take care of yourself. Course, you're lucky- you got us. You're part of the crew, and we look out for one another." I figure the Kid's worked hard enough to earn a place as one of us.
Ned's face lights up like my kids do on Christmas morning. "Really?"
I smile,
remembering how I felt when old Jonesy (may he rest in peace) told me
I was officially part of the crew. Good thing, too, because the next
day we had to mix it up with some lowlifes trying to sabotage a ship.
"Yeah. Plus, you still owe Clem fifty bucks from last week's
poker game. Trust me, he ain't gonna let nothing happen to you 'til
you pay him back."
We all laugh, and I see a grainy photo on the cover of Ned's Gotham Post. A man in black with two pointy ears on his head.
Our urban legend. Our mythical hero.
Batman.
A/N
I have a theory.
I think most people in Gotham don't really believe Batman exists.
To them, he's just an urban legend. I mean its kind of hard to
believe in a guy dressed in a costume saving the day; especially
since Batman shuns the spotlight. I mean, Superman kinda has to deal
with the press (he's a reporter married to another reporter) and
the others all seem to enjoy the limelight. So its easy to believe
they exist- but Batman is much more mysterious.
That's all folkss! Now back to work on the Joker's Wild.