The Long and Winding Road
Chapter Six
DISCLAIMER: No, I don't own them. But my New Years' resolution this year is to get DC Comics to sell them to me real cheap! ;-)
Glaring at the morning paper, I slammed it down on to the coffee table and began pacing the room.
"But how did they find out?" I cried, furious.
"I wish I knew, Dick," Bruce answered quietly.
"Well if I ever get my hands on the low-life snitch who leaked this to the presses, I'll…"
I brought my hands together as if strangling somebody, then let them hang limply at my sides.
"Hey, what about you? You don't seem upset about this at all. If I were you, I'd be absolutely livid!"
"I think you already are."
Well, okay, that was true. I hadn't been this angry in years. But I had a good reason to be mad—while Bruce was off in Europe and Alfred was usually at home, guess who would have to put up with those idiot reporters? ME! I hate reporters (except Clark, that is). Especially the nosy kind. And every reporter in Gotham City seemed to be the very nosy kind. Take it from a person who knows.
The next day was Sunday, so I spent the day helping Bruce pack his things for tomorrow. Of course, he was stubborn about it at first and refused my help. However, after twenty minutes of arguing, I threatened to stow away on the plane if he didn't let me help him. Needless to say, he let me stay after that. But that didn't mean he was thrilled about it. Come to think of it, he's never thrilled about anything.
The day after that at around seven in the morning, we had already said our good-byes and I was watching the Wayne private jet take off. Now that I was all alone, I couldn't resist a little sigh. Back at the circus, I was always—repeat, ALWAYS—traveling with my family. But that day, the closestpeople I had to family were leaving the country without me. Talk about feeling left out!
Turning slowly, I began the walk to school. I think Alfred was expecting me to call a cab to go home and actually eat some breakfast first, but I wasn't very hungry anyway. Besides, school didn't start for another hour or so—I had time… to do something that had to be done…
Even at that early hour of the morning, the streets were full of cars and people trying to get to work on time. It seemed funny to me that, even though my own little universe was about to collapse, everyone else's lives were completely unaffected. In fact, if they knew about what was happening, most of them wouldn't even care.
A strong breeze started up. I zipped my jacket up a little higher to ward off the cold. Unfortunately, the jacket didn't do anything to ward off the reporters. I really wished it did.
Within about twenty seconds, I was surrounded by them. A veritable swarm of reporters were sticking microphones in my face and asking the most obnoxious questions I'd ever heard!
I didn't need this. I had to get out of there.
From past experience, I knew that simply telling them to shut up wouldn't help. So I ducked down and snuck out of the group through somebody's legs (what can I say? Being short can have its advantages!)
It must have been my lucky morning—a cab was sitting at the corner, as if waiting for me.
I got in and slammed the door shut, startling the cabbie. After checking my pocket to make sure I had enough money to get where I was going, I told him the address.
"Now what would you want to be doing there?" he asked.
"You can read about it in the papers in about six weeks—now would you mind stepping on it before the reporters notice that the subject of their interview has disappeared?"
Without another word, the man did his job and began to drive. I breathed a sigh of relief: the reporters couldn't seem to figure out where I had gone. They didn't even suspect the taxi.
As soon as we were a good distance off, the cabbie asked, "Reporters? What are you, some kind of celebrity? Hey…" he continued without even waiting for me to say something. "You're Wayne's kid, aren't you?"
Oh, great…
"Yes, and at the moment, I'm not sure whether it would be more advantageous to be someone a little less noticeable!" I replied.
The cabbie proceeded to talk as if he hadn't even heard me. "Ya know, I've read a lot about you. Every day, my wife and I buy the paper just to read about what's happened most recently in your 'glamorous lives'! But apparently, bein' rich ain't as glamorous as we thought!"
"Trust me, it's not. I hate to disillusion you, but most of that stuff in the paper is just junk."
"So Mr. Wayne isn't going to get his sight back, or did he not lose it in the first place?"
I don't know why, but I suddenly had the urge to punch the cabbie in the nose. It wasn't like he had really done anything offensive; he was just asking an innocent question, like anybody would. But as soon as he said the words… I don't know what happened. I was angry all of a sudden, and hurt, and confused. Lucky for him (and for me, should Alfred ever find out), I managed to restrain myself and just answer the question:
"Well those parts are true."
"Yeah, we were real sorry to hear about what happened this past summer," he added. Now I had a reason to be angry—bringing THAT up and all—but I didn't say anything and just let the cabbie prattle on at his leisure.
"Wait, here's the place!" I finally cried out, not sure whether he'd notice through his incessant yapping.
"How much do I owe you?" I asked as I stepped out of the cab.
The cabbie shook his head and smiled slightly. "Never mind, kid. You've got enough problems."
I blinked, nonplussed.
"But really, I—"
"Hey, when I decide to do something nice, don't stop me!"
"Okay then… thanks, Mister!"
I waved to him as he drove off. Maybe not everybody in Gotham was as nasty as I had assumed. Maybe I'd been taking the personalities of the city's numerous super-villains and applying them to everybody. I made a mental note not to judge people like that anymore, and then headed inside.
Right inside was a fair-skinned, brown-haired woman who was completely dressed in pink. It seemed as if she was waiting for me.
"You must be Dick. Hi, I'm Margie."
"Hi." We shook hands. "And I'd like to thank you again for keeping this a secret. I really appreciate it."
"Oh, it's no problem," she said, blushing as pink as her clothes. "But are you sure you won't change your mind about this? It may seem easy to do at first, but as the disease progresses, we prefer to have a friend or a family member with the student. For support, you know."
"Well, thanks for being concerned, but under the circumstances, I really think it would be better for me to do this on my own."
Margie sighed. "Alright, Dick. But if you ever change your mind…"
She led me into another room filled with desks. Several other people were there too.
Margie sat me down at one of the many empty desks and pulled out a packet of flashcards. Luckily, they weren't pink.
"Okay, let's just start with the simple stuff. We've got a lot to cover in our first lesson, and you've only got forty-five minutes before you need to be in school!"
Me: I love being mysterious.
Dick: Me too, but not when it's my LIFE on the LINE here!
Me: Oh, shush. I'm getting reviews for it, aren't I? About four per chapter. That's a good steady amount, and for me, that's actually very good! Keep it coming, folks!
Dick: Speaking of reviews...
(Dick steps on the author's foot)
Me: OUCH! What was that for?
Dick: One of the reviewers asked me to do that since you were so late updating.
Me: Do the replies. Or else.
Dick: (makes face)
Reviewer Replies
60's-bat-fan-I stepped on her foot for you! Anybody who reviews twice in a row deserves to get their wishes granted. ;-) Anyway, thanks for the good luck wishes! I think I'll need them...
perfectdisaster-Well, here's a little more suspense, which isn't so wonderful when it's me she's writing about! Thanks for the show of support--TAP needs as much as she can get!
kokomocalifornia-Another loyal reviewer! That's always nice to see. And now that it IS after Christmas, you have my permission to strangle the author if she does something you don't like. 8)