Chapter 20

"What do you mean, getting out?" I gazed around the parking area. "Days out?"

"No, out for good. In a month. So long as I get on okay doing this—shopping; going to the park; whatever. Doing normal stuff, I guess. Things are straight in my head now. Every time I've seen Dr Marks since that first time when I got really upset, I've said the same thing. Sometimes in different ways, but always the same. I know what's real and what isn't now. I don't have to pretend anymore. When things have really upset me or people have hurt me, I've imagined things to be different than they are, because I hate feeling like such a weak failure. But that won't happen anymore. I can talk about it. When I get out, I'm going to start seeing Dr Kane again. You remember she left Arkham and its institutions and went to social care. They're going to assign her to me as my social worker. I'll have to see her every week, but if I have a bad day or something happens, I can call her any time."

"That's good. You can talk to me, too," I reminded him. "Any time you want."

"I know." He smiled. "This is all because of you, Travis. You helped me so much. You helped me talk without judging me."

I took his hand and squeezed it. We were still in the yard by the building and no one was around.

"I didn't tell you the last part of the story," he said then. "I've talked about it so many times now, it almost seems silly. But I need to tell you this last part."

"Shall we sit down over there?" I indicated a bench.

"Okay." Still holding my hand, Arthur led me to the bench and sat. "So, I told you I shot Murray Franklin. It sounds crazy, doesn't it?" He laughed—a normal, amused chuckle. "After that, the police grabbed me and put me in a cop car. I was handcuffed when we left the studio, but then I wasn't cuffed in the car. We were driving through the city and there were riots everywhere. Cars were burning; people were letting off fireworks and throwing flares; smashing stuff up. There was a huge demonstration. Everyone was wearing clown masks. I was laughing. I thought it was amazing. I thought they were all doing it for me. Then the car crashed."

"The cop car?"

"Yes. I was knocked out, so I don't remember how it happened. Another vehicle ran into it. Some people got me out of the car, and I woke up laid out on the hood. My head was bleeding. There were crowds all around me chanting for me to get up. Everything hurt, like I'd been run over by a truck, but it sort of faded. I got up and stood on the car and they all cheered. I danced." He stood up suddenly and held his arms out, one at right angles to his body, and the other pointing up a little. He turned around slowly. "I felt like a big star. They were all cheering and chanting. My mouth was full of blood, and I put my fingers in my mouth, and painted a big red clown smile on my face with the blood." He stuck his fingers in the corners of his mouth and pulled them out and up onto his cheeks. Then he sat down beside me again. "That's pretty much it. I don't remember anything else. I woke up in Arkham. I know none of this happened. It was my mind trying to make me feel better about things. I'll never be much. I'm always gonna be the one people bully and pick on, because of my head injury that makes me laugh the way I do. I'm always gonna be the freak who killed his mother. But that's all I did. I can accept it."

"You're amazing, you know that?" I took his hand again. "You sound so different."

"I've had a lot of practise now, talking about this shit." He tugged his hand free of mine and took out his cigarettes. "You want one?"

"Yeah, thanks."

A moment later, we were both smoking. Arthur got up again. "Let's go into town."

"What do you want to do?" I asked.

"I want to walk in the park and get ice cream. I want to ride in your cab. I want to go to a diner and have apple pie with cheese." He paused. "I'm sorry. What do you want to do?"

"That all sounds good to me." I turned and indicated my cab. "It's a couple of miles to the park from here. Why don't we drive there? Then we can tick off riding in the cab first."

Arthur grinned. "Can I pay my fare with a kiss? I don't have much money."

"That sounds good."

Arthur rode up front with me and gazed about him like an excited kid as I drove. "It's weird that it's only about two and a half years since I rode in a car, but it seems so much longer. I've been on the bus, of course, but that doesn't count. I never enjoyed a car ride this much."

"I never enjoyed driving this much either." I grinned as I turned down the street that led to the park. "This is a short ride, but when you get out of the home, we can go anywhere you like. Maybe take a drive out of the city."

"I'd like that."

A few minutes later, we walked into the park and strolled along the side of the lake. Arthur looked at everything in fascination—the swans on the water; a young woman pushing a stroller; two boys playing with a dog; a group of young adults sitting on the grass with a picnic. Everything he saw made him smile and his eyes sparkle, and his obvious enjoyment made it impossible for me to wipe the smile off my face. My heart swelled as I looked at him, and it made me wish things were different in one way. I wished I could hold his hand as we walked, without worrying about people seeing us and throwing insults. We passed a young man and a girl holding hands, walking close together and whispering to each other, and I imagined how good it would be if I could do that with Arthur.

We came to a kiosk selling drinks, snacks, and souvenirs. Who would want souvenirs of Gotham, I couldn't imagine, but I noticed a shelf of disposable cameras, and picked one up. We could take pictures from our first date on the outside. I bought one, along with two cones filled with soft whipped vanilla ice cream. I took the first photo of Arthur standing under a tree holding his ice cream, with a shy trembling smile on this lips.

"I don't think I've ever been photographed," he said. "I won't make a very good picture."

"You need some practise. No one will see them except me."

"Then you have to be photographed, too. I want a picture of you for my room. Show me how it works."

A few minutes later, he took a picture of me standing by the lake. We used up the rest of the film taking photos of the water, the trees, the swans, and each other. I got one of Arthur smoking a cigarette, his head tipped back as he blew smoke up at the sky. I liked that one and thought I'd put it in a frame. Before we left the park, I handed the camera back to the kiosk for developing. I would collect the pictures the next week.

"What next?" I asked as we returned to the cab. "You still want to get apple pie and cheese?"

"I'd love that. Maybe we should have saved some photos to take at the diner."

"We can do that another time. I can get a proper camera to keep, that you just buy films for. We can take lots of photos."

I drove us back to my favourite diner and parked in the street nearby. "This is like the one I used to go to in New York," I told Arthur as we took a table. "Same colour scheme and everything."

"What can I get you boys?" A waitress appeared with a jug of coffee.

"May I have coffee, please?" Arthur said politely.

"Sure thing, sweetheart."

"Me, too," I added. "And two portions of apple pie with cheese, thanks."

The waitress giggled. "You and your pie and cheese. Honestly, Travis, one of these days I'll be trying that myself." She poured out our coffees and headed back to the counter to fetch the pie.

"You come in here a lot?" Arthur grinned.

"Enough that they all know my name and what I like." I glanced at my watch.

"Am I keeping you?" Arthur's smile wavered.

"No, I was just wondering how long you have to spend with me."

"As long as I get back for dinner, it's fine. Otherwise they'll probably send a search party." He sipped his coffee. "This is much better than in the home. I think they keep a jug brewing all day there. By dinner, it's so bitter you can't drink it."

"The coffee here is great," I agreed. "So, what do you want to do after this?"

"I want to—" He broke off as the plates of apple pie arrived. When the waitress left us, he leaned across the table and lowered his voice. "I want to see your apartment. Is that okay?"

"Sure. It's not much. Just a room, really."

"But it's yours." He grinned. "And I don't suppose there are cameras."

"No." My pulse quickened, and I immediately pictured us naked in my bed. "I'd love to show you my place."

Thirty minutes later, I unlocked my door and showed Arthur in. I kept things tidy, so I didn't have to worry about a mess, but the carpet was threadbare and the furniture shabby. It wasn't much, like I'd told Arthur. I would have been ashamed to show him it, if it wasn't for the fact that all he'd seen in the last two and a half years was the inside of an asylum, or of course, the care home.

"This is nice." He stood in the middle of the small room and looked around.

"It's not really."

"It is. It's your own space. You can do what you want, and no one will see." He glanced at the couch. "Don't you have a bed?"

"The couch is a bed. It opens up into a double."

"Oh." He smiled and flushed. "Are you going to show me?"

"Uh, yeah." I opened out the couch with slightly shaky hands and put the cushions in place for pillows. I unfolded the sheet and spread it out on the mattress, then placed the blanket on top. My heart raced, and my dick stiffened when Arthur's shirt landed on the floor beside the bed. I glanced around to find him unfastening his pants. He didn't look at me, and the colour in his face deepened, but he carried on until he had stripped down to his plain white underwear. He wasn't hard, and he looked nervous and awkward. "Hey." I lifted the edge of the blanket. "Wanna lie down?"

"Yes." He slid under the blanket and pulled it around him, immediately seeming more comfortable.

I unfastened my shirt. By the time I got down to my underwear, my arousal was obvious, tenting the front of my boxers. I shoved at it with the heel of my hand and laughed. Arthur smiled, and lifted the blanket again to invite me to join him. The situation seemed kind of weird. If anything was going to happen, I would have expected us to start kissing, fumbling with each other's clothes, and eventually prising ourselves apart to drag the bed open. But we prepared everything like the plan was to have sex, and now Arthur lay flat on his back, tense and unsure.

I propped my head up on my hand and leaned closer to kiss his cheek. "You okay?"

"Yes!"

"Arthur, relax. We're only gonna do something if you want to."

"I do want to. It's just different. I've never really been alone with anyone like this. I've imagined it, and I suppose in my bathroom at the home we're technically alone. This seems different, though. Do you want to fuck me?" He turned his head to meet my eyes.

"Yeah, I do. But not today." I swallowed. I'd thought about that a lot, but the prospect of actually doing it scared me. What if I messed up? What if I hurt him? What if he hated it? "Why don't we just do what we always do? I love the feel of your hands on me."

He smiled. "I love that, too. You can touch me. You know, down there. I showered before you came to meet me."

"I have lube." I reached for the bottle I kept down the side of the couch. I placed it on the ledge beside the bed within reach, then drew him closer to me. He rolled onto his side and slid his arms around me. His half-hard dick brushed mine.

"I love you, Travis," he said softly.

"I love you, too." I didn't think about it. The words fell off my tongue, and I guessed they were true. I'd never felt like this about anyone and hearing them from him made my heart swell.