Disclaimer1: I do not own Batman or any of the related characters, they belong to DC COMICS. The only character I own is Michael Garibaldi...treat him with care.
Disclaimer2: This story contains sections with MATURE LANGUAGE and SITUATIONS. Please use discretion. Some parts of this story might not be suitable for very young children.
BETA READER: KICHI
Chapter 3: TRIP THROUGH MEMORY LANE
Joker felt refreshed. There was nothing better than a good shower, shaving the days of stubble and dressing in nice fresh clothes. He wore his favorite yellow shirt and green bowtie, but in the hideout he realized the purple slackers and coat will get the attention anywhere he stopped, so he decided to exchange the rest of his clothing for the more monochromic style of Blip. After all, that was the logical thing to do. He had Michael buy him a dark hunter green jacket and a pair of black
slackers and sneakers. He looked at his reflection in the rearview mirror and confirmed that the makeup was still in place. He had turned the ability to transform his prominent facial characteristics to a very precise science and it paid off; right now he looked like your regular next door Joe.
Blip had done a great job with the vehicle too. He was able to get a Tahoe with leather interiors and plenty of space inside. That was really nice and comfy, and it drove like a charm. A green sign became visible on the road BRENTON EXIT 2 MILES.
He was close, the closest he has been in almost twenty years. Three and a half hours ago he was in Gotham city and thought this trip was going to be simple and trivial, but now he could feel his heart racing. It was that anticipation you feel when you have the barrel of a gun pointing at your face, you hear the click of the trigger and nothing happens. Joker smiled wide at the image this thought evoked. Not many things made him feel like that. He saw his exit ahead and slowly turned leaving the highway for his appointment with old memories.
Commissioner Gordon was at his desk when he heard a rustle behind him, and, like from thin air a dark caped figure stood in front of him.
"Do you still have to make your entrances that dramatic?" He said meeting the Dark Knight's gaze.
"Old habits die hard", answered the shadow coming closer to the commissioner. "Any notes or messages from Joker?"
"None so far. I don't know about you, but that makes my bones shiver. Have you heard anything in the streets?"
"He's reorganizing his gang. There is word that his lieutenants have been meeting with the local gangs in search of recruits. Unfortunately every time I seem to get near, the lead grows cold. His old associates are not too interested in joining ranks with him again."
"Intelligent decision if you ask me. Reorganizing is going to be very hard."
"But not for long. He'll hire fresh young blood soon. Joker pays too well to go unnoticed."
"Yes, but at what cost? He will kill for any reason, and he does not discriminate if you are friend of foe." Gordon took a puff from his pipe. "Besides, he should not have that much money to pay his associates. We've systematically discovered many of Joker's money reserves and had the funds frozen for the last few months."
"That has never stopped Joker before."
"He was in Arkham for almost six months. How the hell does he keep his control over his illegal businesses while he is all locked up?"
"He's in charge of a well structured group, and I'm sure that most of his assets are outside of Gotham, probably in European Bank accounts. I suspect he might even invest some of his assets. When he is locked up the money stays there, waiting for when he escapes again. Then he's back in business."
"I would like to be able to sleep one night not having to worry when that psychopath is going to get out next. Jeez, this is nerve wrecking!"
"One thing I do not understand. It's been a little over a week and he hasn't made a move. Usually by this time he has already started to communicate. You know Joker, always in the spotlight."
"I know, and I don't like it either. He loves to just babble all the time. I told you this silence is making me feel uneasy. Unfortunately, until someone talks about his whereabouts, the only thing left to do is sit and wait for him to show his grinning face."
Batman nodded and walked over the open window. "I don't want to wait that long. I need to be ready before he gets his first victim." He paused as he started stepping out the window. "Jim?"
"Go ahead. I've learned to live with your entrances and exits all these years. Just be safe." Batman acknowledged Gordon once and jumped off the window. Gordon leaned forward to follow the caped crusader but by the time he reached the window the Batman was gone. One day he would have to learn the secret of those magnificent exits.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Nine twenty-two in the morning. All the roads he remembered where gone and he almost felt like he was in a whole different country. Getting around in the metropolitan area was hard enough with all the tiny streets winding around the tall buildings. It took him about forty-five minutes to find the property after leaving downtown and driving through the rural country roads. He found the entrance to the property closed with a chained link fence and a padlock that looked fairly new. That didn't
really surprise him; he'd been away too long. Nothing he couldn't take care of. Joker leaned over the chain and a stream of acid from his boutonnière dissolved the padlock. Open Sesame. He swung the gates open and climbed back into the SUV driving for another quarter mile until he finally came to a stop, in front of an old wooden barn. The doors of the barn were old, rusted and twisted but nicely secured with a dark, heavy chain. He got out of the vehicle and took a deep breath while looking around the place. The grass was about a foot tall all around the barn and it smelled fresh and wet. A very large amount of weeds were starting to creep through the grass and climb on the walls.
He looked in search of the house he remembered should have been there. He was not sure if he remembered having being inside that house, slept in that house one time, or maybe knew someone that lived in the house. Worst of all, could he have imagined it all? He had imagined so many past lives that he was not sure which one was real anymore and following the wrong one… well, that would have been embarrassing. He'd have to find out.
Joker had hoped to see that house one more time, but that was not going to happen, and his heart sank. The lot where it should have stood was empty, not even the foundation remained, but still there were going to be memories that he could unearth from the barn. Then he saw a piece of charred wood on the ground among the weeds. He grabbed it and examined it against the sunlight. From up close it seemed like a black piece of burnt charcoal but he could still identify a hint of color, maybe gray or light blue. Gray. That sounded right. He looked around for more hints as to the origin of the wood. Then his nostrils filled with the smell of wood being burned. He remembered the smell. He also remembered the creaking, the heat against his face and the laughter. But who was laughing? He closed his eyes and felt that irresistible feeling at the base of his stomach to burst into laughter, so he followed his instincts and laughed. It felt natural, like a release, but he could not put the finger as to what could be do funny to evoke in him such a strong feeling. If he could just put those memories
forward in his mind… "I would kill for some chocolate now…"
He walked over to the barn and a feeling of joy filled him. It was not the one he had always felt, especially when he killed someone, that one was extreme but short-lived. Instead it was sincere and almost childish feeling of happiness that made him very comfortable; a feeling he had not felt in a very long time. A vision came through; one of a young spunky boy, no older than nine or ten, playing hide-and-seek with his cousin. He remembered the laughter of two young boys having innocent fun. What was the cousin's name? Ah… Melvin. He remembered Cousin Melvin and smiled. He lived next door and while he was cleverly making things (and Cousin Melvin could make a lot of interesting things), he couldn't understand the simplest of things, like jokes. He remembered playing the classic 'Who's on first?' routine for Melvin and what was he thinking..? Weeks after that, Melvin kept bombarding him with questions of all sorts, confusing himself even more when he was supposed to just laugh at it. /Poor Cousin Melvin… what happened to Melvin..? Joker remembered and anger started to build up. "The Bat keeps taking things from me."
Walking over the barn doors he released another stream of acid from his lapel flower to dissolve the metal links and the chain fell to the ground. The door opened with a loud grating noise. He wished he had brought some WD-40 with him; that was an annoying sound. Joker walked in and was quickly hit by the smell of stale and damp hay and accumulated animal feces. He looked up to the ceiling and noted that there were some areas where the roof had already caved in, and the wooden structure visibly rotted away. He advanced a few paces and a sudden flutter surprised him. A pair of sparrows hurriedly flew away though the roof; Birds…I hate birds. He then saw the two stables at the end of the
building. A name slowly started to form on the back of his memory one letter at the time.
"Dan…," Joker whispered softly as he put a gloved finger over his lips. He remembered an old chestnut Quarter horse occupying the first stable on the left. /Carrots. He loved carrots./ "I brought you a little snack, boy," he whispered. In front he could almost see the horse, approaching him while smacking its lips, looking very interested in the imaginary bunch of raw carrots he was holding in his extended hand. "That's right, pal. Enjoy. You and I best friends, right?"
Everything around him felt unreal, like a mist in which his mind floated at the mercy of the current. He heard some screaming outside, and quickly reached for his gun. He heard steps on top of him and he looked up to the second floor of the barn where he saw a small boy not older than nine running across. -Damn kids–Joker thought./ -They never
understand the term private property. I'll teach him…-/ He ran for the ladder and rushed up, the wood creaking under each step. One of the rungs broke under the weight and he lost his balance. He let the gun fall to the ground to hold firmly to the ladder. Joker tried to set foot on the higher rung but this one gave away too. He dangled uncomfortably for a moment when he realized he was been observed from above.
"Howdy neighbor," said Joker in his best southern accent with a broad mile looking directly into the kid's green eyes. "You mind giving a fellow cowboy a hand?" No response. "What kid, you deaf or something?" he said angrily when he realized the kid was not really looking at him but rather through him at the floor below. He heard the barn door open violently and a man rushed in huffing. Joker let go of the ladder and landed loudly on the floor. He rolled and hid in the shadows under the
second level, and hoped the man had not seen him in the barn.
"Who the hell does she think she is, talking to me like this?" Joker heard the man said loudly. "Bitch! I'll show her. No woman talks to me like that." The man paced backwards and forwards, throwing fists into the air and occasionally kicking a wooden column in his way. He smelled of brandy and whiskey, and his clothes were wrinkled and unkempt. Joker
felt sick all of a sudden, a sour taste in his mouth. "Just go out with my friends, have a few drinks and she calls me a drunk, I swear I'll kill her, I'll kill her!"
The man suddenly stopped in front of the horse's stable. Instinctively the animal approached the man and started to nuzzle him. He was probably searching for more carrots. Joker looked closer at the angry man's face. He was about mid forties, thin but well built, his wild curly hair starting to pepper, and a very thin moustache drawn over the lips. There was something in that man that looked very familiar, but he could not put his finger on it.
"Get off me, you stupid beast", yelled the man, banging the horse squarely on the muzzle. The horse was startled for a moment, but after that, kept on trying to nibble on the man's clothes. "I told you…to fucking…leave me… alone!" said the man advancing to the edge of the stable from where he grabbed a shotgun. He then walked back to the stable and aimed the shotgun at the horse. "You want to fuck with me? Go ahead, you God damn horse!" He shot twice inside the stable and Joker heard a loud thud. The man aimed lower and tried a third shot, but the gun was empty. He then smashed it against the stable door several times until the last thing left of the gun was the end of the barrel he was holding. He threw it against the floor and steadied himself against a column. By this time it was obvious the man was very intoxicated and
having trouble standing up. "Crazy horse." Joker heard a soft giggle. "Crazy dead horse."
The man turned around and wobbled towards the exit. By the time he reached the door the giggle had escalated in pitch and volume. The man left the barn and Joker felt comfortable enough to leave his hiding place. He found his gun; put it back securely in his holster and looked up to the second level of the barn. The kid was no longer visible. He walked towards the stable and peeked inside. The horse's body lay on the ground unmoving. Under his head a large amount of blood was starting to seep through the bedding. The crimson color of blood…a masterpiece. Joker looked up and saw the kid, from behind some bales of hay looking down at him again. Even from where he stood he could see that the kid had tears running down his cheeks. Those large green eyes never left him. His light brown wild hair and the look on his face were eerie
familiar; almost like looking through a mirror. Joker had a chill.
"You killed Dante, you murdering son of a bitch, and I'll make sure you ride it in hell...I swear." Joker whispered covering his mouth with his hand. What had he said? No, no, no. That was wrong; you don't use language like that when you refer to your…
"Excuse me, can I help you?" said a voice behind him. Joker slowly turned and saw a man, about thirty years, light reddish brown hair, dressed in jeans and a striped red shirt aiming a hunting rifle at him. He looked up to the upper level, and the kid had disappeared. He peeked again into the stable. Empty. "Could you please show me your hands?"
"Are you for real, or am I imagining you too?"
"I said put your hands where I can see them." The man with the rifle said firmly. "Now."
Joker was used to the drill. He lifted both hands over his head showing the palms of his hands. He tilted his head slightly and broad smile appeared on his face. His large green eyes opened wide. "I come in peace… I go in pieces." Joker chuckled softly.
"What?" The man with the rifle moved closer, not amused at all and not loosing sight of the Joker or his hands. Behind him was a large yellow Labrador retriever panting but very attentive. "You know this is private property, right?"
"Yes," Joker replied. "And you are…?"
"This is my property so I'll ask the questions." Joker nodded. "Who are you and what do you want here?"
"My name is Joseph Kerr. There was a house in this property behind the barn, an old house. It was the house of … a friend. Just came to see if he still lived there."
The man with the rifle looked at him in silence for a moment. "That house burned down and was demolished a long time ago. Nobody has lived in this property in over fifteen years, Mr. Kerr. But that still doesn't answer who gave you the right to force your entrance to the property and to the barn?"
So that was the house that had burned… but why was it so funny? Joker would have to gather more clues. "The place looked abandoned. I thought nobody would mind if I took a stroll to explore."
"Well it's not abandoned," answered the man dryly. "And I don't like trespassers."
"That's an understatement, my friend." Joker rolled his eyes.
"Not funny, Mr. Kerr, so I suggest that unless you want me to call the authorities to settle this, you remove yourself from my property immediately."
"Oh, no need to bring the authorities for a simple misunderstanding," Said Joker nonchalantly. "I will leave sooner than you can say 'candid camera'." The man's silence made him comfortable enough to continue. "You know, I feel a little awkward with you knowing my name but I don't have the slightest idea to whom I'm talking to."
"Eggleton. Robert Eggleton."
"Well, nice to meet you. Now Rob, can I finally lower my hands or you want me to leave like this? It's going to be very difficult for me to drive with my hands above my head." Robert could not suppress a soft smile. Then signed him to lower his arms and Joker sighed in relief. "Thank you."
Joker straightened his jacket and started to walk past Eggleton and his rifle. The retriever growled softly and Joker stared at him. He made a pause and slowly turned around. The dog cowered behind his master. "Sorry for the misunderstanding and the trespassing. No hard feelings, eh, Rob?" He said extending a friendly gloved hand. Eggleton relaxed and pulled back the rifle while responding to the gesture. Both hands met and Eggleton felt like someone hit him with a sledgehammer. Everything went black and Robert heard someone busting in laughter. In the darkness Robert heard a gunshot and something fell hard beside him then everything went silent.
