Chapter 20
The diner was filled with breakfasters when I walked in. I sat at the counter and nursed a cup of coffee, watching the comings and goings. It was probably a little early for Wizard to be in, but I waited anyway. Eventually, a corner table became available. I took it and ordered a coffee refill and some pancakes, so they'd let me sit there as long as I wanted.
Wizard came in about an hour later, after most of the tables had emptied. He spotted me almost at once and came over, quickly followed by a waitress.
"Get me the usual, please," he said. She poured him a coffee and walked away.
"Hey." I nodded at him and offered him a cigarette.
"I gave up."
"Okay." I put them away, not bothering to light one for myself.
"How's things?" he asked me.
"Pretty good."
"I remembered where I saw that Arthur guy." He eyed me steadily. "You brought him here from Gotham, right?"
"Yeah."
"You know he's a wanted killer."
"Of course I know."
"He killed five people, Travis."
"I killed four," I reminded him.
"That was different."
"Was it? They all bullied him in different ways; treated him like shit."
"It's still different. You were stopping an armed robbery and helping a twelve-year-old girl get away from illegal child pimps."
"Not like you to be all holier than thou, Wizard. Are you gonna say anything?"
He shrugged. "It's not my business. You know I'm no grass. I'm interested, though. Why'd you involve yourself in this?"
"I was curious. Presumably you saw the Murray show."
"Yeah."
"I wanted to meet that person. See what it was all about."
"So, you were there when the cop car crashed and he escaped?"
"Yes."
"But that was weeks ago. You're still hanging out with him?"
"Uh huh."
Wizard scratched his neck. "You looked pretty friendly the other night. All dressed up, too. I saw you through the window."
I sighed. Of course he had. Not that he would have seen much. We might have leaned towards each other when we were talking. I lit a cigarette for him. Nothing more. "Of course we looked friendly. We're friends."
"Okay." He dropped it as the waitress returned with an overflowing plate of breakfast.
I drank my coffee and watched him eat. He had a thoughtful look about him as if he were mulling over what I'd said. He wasn't stupid, but hopefully he was more concerned about Arthur's past than what I might be doing with him.
"So, this Arthur," he began again when he finished eating. "What's with the laughing thing? They said something on the news about him being crazy and having been in that nuthouse in Gotham. What's it called? Arkham?"
"Yeah. Why are you so interested?"
"Just seems weird, that's all. You suddenly turning up here with a serial killer in tow."
"He's not crazy," I told him. "He had a head injury when he was a kid. Didn't I tell you something about him having a condition when you saw us before? He laughs when he's upset or nervous. Can't help it."
"If he's going around killing people, sounds to me like he should still be in a padded cell. They found a body in his apartment, you know. Stabbed in the eye and the neck with scissors and with his head bashed into the wall. It was a bloodbath."
I winced, remembering the gory sight of Randall lying in Arthur's apartment. "He was off his medication. The social services cut the funding and he couldn't get it," I explained. "He's back on it now."
"He managed to get meds without getting caught? Does he have fake ID or something?"
"No, I got some scripts from Dave."
"Oh, yeah, I forgot. That scumbag." Wizard wrinkled his nose. "You've sure done a lot for this guy."
"What's with the third degree anyway?"
"Sorry, Trav. Like I said, I'm just interested. You know I won't say anything. I just don't get why. I haven't seen you in five years, and suddenly you're back and you're, I don't know—different."
"I'm not different." I frowned.
"You are. You look kinda happy. That's weird in itself. You were always the most depressed individual I knew."
"Maybe I'm just overjoyed to have got out of Gotham."
"Well, I guess that would make anybody happy. Why you went to that shithole in the first place was beyond me." Wizard grinned suddenly. "So, you're driving again. Not planning on coming back with us?"
"No. I'm staying independent. Keeping a low profile. I don't think I was seen with Arthur, but you never know."
"Sure. You're off the grid here, then?"
"Yeah. I got a cheap room for cash. I traded in my cab for another when I got here. The insurance is still registered at my old address in Gotham. They could find me if they looked hard enough, but they don't seem bothered. It was chaos that night."
"It's crazy there," Wizard agreed. "The riots are still going on. I'm surprised more people aren't leaving."
He changed the subject then, and told me about a woman he'd met, and what the rest of our old "gang" were up to. He didn't mention Arthur again, but I could see he was thinking about what I'd told him and trying to put two and two together. I left him half an hour later and went to pick up my first fare of the day.
When I finished driving and went home, Arthur was already back, lounging on the couch in front of the TV in pyjama pants and a dark red sweater that looked new. I leaned down to kiss him and touched his sleeve. "Is this new?"
"Yeah. I don't have enough clothes. I thought I'd try to get one new thing to wear every couple of weeks. There's a stall on the market that does some really nice stuff, cheaper than the stores."
"Good idea. How did the puppet shows go?"
A wide smile spread across his face. "They were amazing. The kids loved the new stories I made up. One man asked me if I'd do a private show at his little boy's birthday party in a couple of weeks. He said he'd pay me fifty dollars."
"That's amazing. And there was no trouble from kids after?"
"No. I told the guy on the kitchen stall near where I do my shows about what happened. He stayed talking to me while I packed up, but there were none of those older kids hanging around anyway."
"That's good. I should have come to meet you." I cursed myself for not doing that.
"You don't have to do that, Travis. I shouldn't have to rely on you for everything."
"I saw Wizard," I told him. "He was asking about you."
"Did he guess about us?" His eyes went wide.
"No. He seemed suspicious, but he only really asked questions about us leaving Gotham and what you did there."
"You mean the fact that I killed six people." He flinched and I wondered about that. It was the first time I'd seen him show any discomfort about what he'd done.
"Five. Penny wasn't confirmed," I reminded him.
"Whatever. Doesn't he care that you smuggled a murderer out of Gotham, and that we're still spending time together?"
"He's only concerned I might get caught. At least that's what he said. He didn't seem to know the right questions to ask. Like I said before, though, I'm not gonna hide you away. If he realises what we are to each other, I don't care. You're the only one that really matters to me, Arthur."
He smiled again. "I've never been that important to anybody."
"Me neither."
I didn't see Wizard again for a couple of weeks. During that time, Arthur's body began to get used to his new medication, and he had no more nausea or cramps or anything else. He performed at the kid's birthday party and managed to get three more private bookings from other parents attending the party with their own children. There was no more trouble on the market, and Arthur's name was no longer mentioned on the news. Gotham settled down and the latest drama was the increasing poverty there, with many businesses closing down due to having lost all their stock during the riots. It made me even more glad I'd left.
It was Christmas Eve and somehow it had crept up on us without us noticing, despite the fact that the city was decked out with lights, an enormous tree stood in front of the Rockefeller Centre as always, and every time you switched on the radio, it was playing Christmas songs. I wondered how it had got by me, but then again, I hadn't celebrated Christmas in years. I didn't bother when I was on my own in Gotham. The most I'd done between leaving the marines and moving out of New York was have a few drinks with Wizard and the other guys, before they all scattered to be with their families, and I spent the day in my apartment, watching TV, and eating a frozen dinner like I did every other day.
The market only stayed open until three o'clock, but it gave me a little time to think about getting a gift for Arthur. He hadn't mentioned Christmas either, and I didn't know if he even observed it. For all I knew, he could be a Jehovah's Witness or something like that. But it didn't mean I couldn't get him a gift. People bought each other gifts all the time and it didn't have to be anything to do with Christmas. I could simply buy him something because I loved him.
I grinned to myself, a warm glow spreading through me. Then I laughed at myself for being soft. I'd never had these feelings before, and it was strange to think of someone—of Arthur—and be unable to stop myself smiling; to feel my heart swell with feelings for him.
I walked downtown, making my way through crowds of hurrying shoppers with numerous bags, all trying to get last minute Christmas gifts. What should I buy for Arthur? He liked clothes. For the first time in his life he was buying new things for himself instead of cast-offs from thrift stores. But there was nothing special about a new shirt or a pair of shoes, at least not as a gift. He didn't wear jewellery, but I didn't know if that was because he didn't like it, or because he couldn't afford it and had never had any bought for him. Personally, I liked a chunky necklace, but the one I'd had when I lived in New York before had got broken and lost when I was shot in the neck.
I looked in every store window I passed, hoping for inspiration. Arthur liked musicals, but I'd bought him a couple of video tapes and he bought them himself when he wanted. That wouldn't be special either. I came to a halt, my way blocked by a crowd of people clustered around a window looking in at the display. The shop sold watches and clocks. Arthur had a shitty plastic watch that looked like the type you might buy a kid when it was learning to tell the time. Perfect.
I squirmed through the crowd to the door and made it inside. The store was just as crowded within as it was out front. The five harassed staff were serving other customers, with several waiting behind each. I took some time to look around as much as I could, edging between people to get to each display. Arthur didn't like fancy flashy things, except when he was wearing his red suit. Most of the time he wore plain clothes and subdued colours, except for that stupid watch, which was purple.
One watch on the display I was looking at stood out to me. It had a simple white face with Roman numerals in black, and a dark brown leather strap. The others surrounding it were gold or silver, bristling with buttons for different things, and with chunky metal bracelets. I could imagine Arthur wearing the one with the leather strap.
Almost forty minutes passed before I managed to reach one of the counters and buy the watch. They gift-wrapped it for me and added a plain tag I could write on myself. Finally, I escaped the store. I still had some time before Arthur finished at the market, and I made my way to the club we'd gone to that had ended in disaster. We hadn't been since, but I wanted to. Much to my surprise, they had a sign in the window advertising Christmas dinner, with places available. Usually, they opened later in the day, but today the doors were already open and clearly, they were doing lunch the following day. I went in and booked a table. If Arthur didn't do Christmas, maybe he'd enjoy a turkey dinner and a dance afterwards regardless.
I hurried home, wrote on the gift tag on the small parcel, and hid it in the same place I kept my journal. It reminded me I hadn't written anything for some time. I hadn't felt the need to. Arthur was good for me, too.
The door opened and he sidled in, struggling with his bag of puppets, another large bag of something, and a little pine tree in a net bag to hold its branches together. "I didn't think to ask. You're not Jewish, are you?" he asked. "Or a Jehovah's Witness or anything?"
I laughed. "I was wondering the same about you. And no, I'm not." I took the tree from him and found a knife to cut off the netting. The tree was about three feet tall, and would stand on the cabinet beside the bed, if we could find a bucket or something to put it in.
"There's a tree stand in this bag," Arthur said. "It screws onto the trunk." He'd thought of everything. Besides the tree stand, the bag contained a small string of lights, one strand of bright red tinsel, and a dozen baubles in assorted colours. "I wanted to get more," he told me. "But we only have room for this small tree."
"It's perfect." I watched as he screwed on the stand and balanced the tree on the cabinet, then began winding the string of lights around it. I retrieved the gift box containing the watch and placed it under the tree.
"You got me a present?" Arthur's eyes widened.
"Of course."
He grinned and finished hanging baubles on the tree. Then he took one final item out of the bag—a long flat wrapped box with a gift tag—and put it under the tree, too. "This will be the first Christmas I'll have enjoyed," he said. "And the first one I have something to look forward to after."
"Me too," I agreed. "Merry Christmas, Arthur."
