I speed up to the school and stop. Benjamin Terrence McGinnis, or better
known to everyone else as Ben, is leaning up against a tree, blowing
breaths of impatience up into his black hair. I get out of the car and jog
over to him.
"Dad!" He says, surprised.
"What is it?"
"I thought for sure you'd forget." He says, glancing down at his feet like he's ashamed that such a thought crossed his mind.
Why shouldn't he think that? It wouldn't be the first time I forgot.
"Well I'm here, so I didn't forget." Ben grins at me.
"Not necessarily Dad. You could still forget me even though you're here." He looks just like me, but his personality is looking like it's going to be the unpredictable craziness of Lydia. We get back into the car and I begin the drive home. I feel slightly uncomfortable- even though I shouldn't feel uncomfortable with my own son.
Maybe if I saw him more than 10 minutes a day, I wouldn't.
"Did you hear anything about Batman today?" I murmur. Ben's face lights up.
That topic gets him every time.
"He's amazing!"
"Why? Did he do something schway?" Ben rolls his eyes at the word "schway", but continues.
"He rounded up a whole gang in one night! The police would have completely missed them! God, how great would it be to be Batman!" Ben gets lost in his own eagerness. It's almost ironic: Ben worships Batman. Not the hero-worship thing my kid brother used to have, but this strange idolization that's shown in every decision he makes.
He worships Batman, but he's starting to think I'm a total dreg. Go figure. If Ben only knew...
But Ben doesn't know.
We reach Wayne Manor and go inside. It's still called Wayne Manor, even though a Wayne hasn't resided in it for 12 years. Ben used to be afraid of the place when he was little.
And why not? It kinda scared me back when I was 17.
Ben flings his stuff on the floor and collapses into a chair. I've got about a half-hour of free time before I go off to be Batman, and I'm not spending a second of it without Ben.
The phone rings. Ben picks it up.
"Hello? Yeah hi Nate..." Ben didn't inherit the wild mannerisms of his parents. He's well-liked practically everywhere he goes.
Unfortunately his popularity just makes it harder for me to spend the little free time I have with him. I sigh and sit down in a chair across from Ben. I fight to get a chance to be with him, but it's always at the wrong time.
Ben was born: I was out being Batman.
Ben's first steps: I was at college, desperately trying to stay awake during my classes.
Ben's first day of school: I was at a Wayne-Powers corporate convention.
Ben didn't even say "Daddy" until he was 3.
We both hear a door slamming. Lydia's home. She decided a long time ago that the only was to make an entrance was to make a loud entrance. She comes into the room.
"Ben, get off the phone." Lydia doesn't bother with the formalities of "hi" or "how was your day".
"Why?" Ben murmurs.
"Because I'm home." Ben smirks at me, as if we both understand something about Lydia that no one else does, and hangs up the phone.
"Why are you home so early?" I ask. Lyd glances at me.
"Tonight's Ben's big game. I skipped out." Lydia's reasonably busy too, but she would lie, cheat, steal, and/or kill to have time with Ben. She's usually at Gotham Museum, putting her brand new doctorate-in- archaeology to use.
She was thrilled to get it because now she's not dependent on me in any way.
But skipped out for the big game? Oh no. I'm in trouble.
"You are coming, right Dad?" Ben suddenly says, as if he just realized that I might miss another important thing in his life like I've done a thousand times.
There's a planned assassination attempt on the Mayor of Gotham tonight. I can't do anything else but be Batman.
"I have to work." Lydia's head snaps up at the all too familiar phrase, because she knows that it really means I have to go risk my life again. Ben tries to look like he's not upset, but he's a horrible actor. His face contorts into something that looks like it's about to cry and laugh at the same time.
"I'm really sorry, Ben. I'll make it up to you. I promise."
"No. It's okay Dad." Ben says in that monotone it's-not-really-okay voice. I can feel Lydia's glare, cool as ice, burning down on my forehead. I don't dare look up at her.
"You've already been to work today." Lydia snaps. Don't do this to me Lyd. Don't put me in this trap. She's forcing me to make up stories and she knows how I hate to lie. But she doesn't care.
"Accounting wants to go over some records with me. They can't wait. I just left so I could pick up Ben."
"Just like they had to go over them last week when you missed Ben's season opener, McGinnis." Lydia replies. Ben gets up and walks out of the room. He knows that Lydia's angry when she calls me McGinnis.
Lydia and I fight. We used to be inseparable. We used to never have a mean word for each other. We used to think we were above couples who did.
Of course, that was before we had Ben, before Wayne died, and before I inherited an international corporation and a savings account of millions. We used to understand everything about each other.
Now we can barely stand each other.
"He needs you to be there. It's very important to him." She says in a low voice.
Now we fight over dinner, in bed, at parties-
"I know it's important. You think I'm missing it on purpose? If I could be there I would."
On vacation, at home, when we're out-
"You're out there every night. You can miss one to be there for your son."
Around Ben, around strangers, among colleagues and friends-
"I can't miss a night. One night makes all the difference." Hah. Never thought I'd be agreeing with you Wayne.
Lydia calmly throws her briefcase across the room and watches it slide into the corner.
We fight everywhere.
"He sees you a half-hour a day, Terry McGinnis. I doubt he even knows he has a father anymore." When Lydia's frustrated, she calls me Terry. When she's angry, she calls me McGinnis. When she's furious and ready to kill me, she calls me Terry McGinnis.
Lyd will yell at me forever for never being around with Ben, for never being there for Ben, or how much Ben misses me, but she's never said a word about if she misses me or if she needs me to be there for her.
"We have this argument every night, Lydia. Do you really think the outcome is going to change?" I shout back. I'm pissed off. She used to respect me for the constant juggling act I had to do- a job, a wife and son, Batman- and now she's constantly condemning me for it. Do I sacrifice people lives for my son's big game? No. That wouldn't be fair.
Of course, it's equally not fair to sacrifice my life for the lives of others. But I do it anyway.
Because I'm Batman.
"Dad!" He says, surprised.
"What is it?"
"I thought for sure you'd forget." He says, glancing down at his feet like he's ashamed that such a thought crossed his mind.
Why shouldn't he think that? It wouldn't be the first time I forgot.
"Well I'm here, so I didn't forget." Ben grins at me.
"Not necessarily Dad. You could still forget me even though you're here." He looks just like me, but his personality is looking like it's going to be the unpredictable craziness of Lydia. We get back into the car and I begin the drive home. I feel slightly uncomfortable- even though I shouldn't feel uncomfortable with my own son.
Maybe if I saw him more than 10 minutes a day, I wouldn't.
"Did you hear anything about Batman today?" I murmur. Ben's face lights up.
That topic gets him every time.
"He's amazing!"
"Why? Did he do something schway?" Ben rolls his eyes at the word "schway", but continues.
"He rounded up a whole gang in one night! The police would have completely missed them! God, how great would it be to be Batman!" Ben gets lost in his own eagerness. It's almost ironic: Ben worships Batman. Not the hero-worship thing my kid brother used to have, but this strange idolization that's shown in every decision he makes.
He worships Batman, but he's starting to think I'm a total dreg. Go figure. If Ben only knew...
But Ben doesn't know.
We reach Wayne Manor and go inside. It's still called Wayne Manor, even though a Wayne hasn't resided in it for 12 years. Ben used to be afraid of the place when he was little.
And why not? It kinda scared me back when I was 17.
Ben flings his stuff on the floor and collapses into a chair. I've got about a half-hour of free time before I go off to be Batman, and I'm not spending a second of it without Ben.
The phone rings. Ben picks it up.
"Hello? Yeah hi Nate..." Ben didn't inherit the wild mannerisms of his parents. He's well-liked practically everywhere he goes.
Unfortunately his popularity just makes it harder for me to spend the little free time I have with him. I sigh and sit down in a chair across from Ben. I fight to get a chance to be with him, but it's always at the wrong time.
Ben was born: I was out being Batman.
Ben's first steps: I was at college, desperately trying to stay awake during my classes.
Ben's first day of school: I was at a Wayne-Powers corporate convention.
Ben didn't even say "Daddy" until he was 3.
We both hear a door slamming. Lydia's home. She decided a long time ago that the only was to make an entrance was to make a loud entrance. She comes into the room.
"Ben, get off the phone." Lydia doesn't bother with the formalities of "hi" or "how was your day".
"Why?" Ben murmurs.
"Because I'm home." Ben smirks at me, as if we both understand something about Lydia that no one else does, and hangs up the phone.
"Why are you home so early?" I ask. Lyd glances at me.
"Tonight's Ben's big game. I skipped out." Lydia's reasonably busy too, but she would lie, cheat, steal, and/or kill to have time with Ben. She's usually at Gotham Museum, putting her brand new doctorate-in- archaeology to use.
She was thrilled to get it because now she's not dependent on me in any way.
But skipped out for the big game? Oh no. I'm in trouble.
"You are coming, right Dad?" Ben suddenly says, as if he just realized that I might miss another important thing in his life like I've done a thousand times.
There's a planned assassination attempt on the Mayor of Gotham tonight. I can't do anything else but be Batman.
"I have to work." Lydia's head snaps up at the all too familiar phrase, because she knows that it really means I have to go risk my life again. Ben tries to look like he's not upset, but he's a horrible actor. His face contorts into something that looks like it's about to cry and laugh at the same time.
"I'm really sorry, Ben. I'll make it up to you. I promise."
"No. It's okay Dad." Ben says in that monotone it's-not-really-okay voice. I can feel Lydia's glare, cool as ice, burning down on my forehead. I don't dare look up at her.
"You've already been to work today." Lydia snaps. Don't do this to me Lyd. Don't put me in this trap. She's forcing me to make up stories and she knows how I hate to lie. But she doesn't care.
"Accounting wants to go over some records with me. They can't wait. I just left so I could pick up Ben."
"Just like they had to go over them last week when you missed Ben's season opener, McGinnis." Lydia replies. Ben gets up and walks out of the room. He knows that Lydia's angry when she calls me McGinnis.
Lydia and I fight. We used to be inseparable. We used to never have a mean word for each other. We used to think we were above couples who did.
Of course, that was before we had Ben, before Wayne died, and before I inherited an international corporation and a savings account of millions. We used to understand everything about each other.
Now we can barely stand each other.
"He needs you to be there. It's very important to him." She says in a low voice.
Now we fight over dinner, in bed, at parties-
"I know it's important. You think I'm missing it on purpose? If I could be there I would."
On vacation, at home, when we're out-
"You're out there every night. You can miss one to be there for your son."
Around Ben, around strangers, among colleagues and friends-
"I can't miss a night. One night makes all the difference." Hah. Never thought I'd be agreeing with you Wayne.
Lydia calmly throws her briefcase across the room and watches it slide into the corner.
We fight everywhere.
"He sees you a half-hour a day, Terry McGinnis. I doubt he even knows he has a father anymore." When Lydia's frustrated, she calls me Terry. When she's angry, she calls me McGinnis. When she's furious and ready to kill me, she calls me Terry McGinnis.
Lyd will yell at me forever for never being around with Ben, for never being there for Ben, or how much Ben misses me, but she's never said a word about if she misses me or if she needs me to be there for her.
"We have this argument every night, Lydia. Do you really think the outcome is going to change?" I shout back. I'm pissed off. She used to respect me for the constant juggling act I had to do- a job, a wife and son, Batman- and now she's constantly condemning me for it. Do I sacrifice people lives for my son's big game? No. That wouldn't be fair.
Of course, it's equally not fair to sacrifice my life for the lives of others. But I do it anyway.
Because I'm Batman.