The Long and Winding Road

Chapter Seven

DISCLAIMER: I own Margie, and that is it. I doubt you'll want her, but if you do, just take her. But be sure to let me know that you're going to use her in your story. If Dick is still Robin, the odds are I'll read it! There's not enough of that stuff floating around here these days... sigh... ANYWAY. Onto the story.

Although my first lesson hadn't gone as well as we had planned, both Margie and I entertained hopes that I would live up to my reputation as a fast learner and catch on soon. If I didn't… well, I'd just HAVE to, that's all. It wasn't like I had a heck of a lot of time on my hands.

So learn I did. It wasn't easy, let me tell you. I mean, it would have been difficult under any circumstances, but knowing that I only had a few weeks to learn everything without being able to tell anyone about it… what can I say? It was absolute murder on my nerves. I realized I was getting more nervous and snippy as the days went past. I couldn't let that continue. Something had to be done before somebody really got suspicious.

I had to tell someone.

Alfred.

He'd know what to do—he always knows what to do.

It was exactly two weeks since Bruce left for Austria by the time I finally worked up the guts to go into the kitchen and tell Alfred my secret. I missed the door and walked straight into the wall when I first tried it. Boy did that ever hurt.

Clumsier all the time, I thought irritably. Deep down, though, I knew it wasn't that. Well, maybe some of it was. But a lot of it was that disease I had—it was awfully distracting at times, took up nearly all of my thoughts.

I managed to get back on track and sit down at the kitchen table without Alfred noticing my mishap, thank goodness.

"What brings you in here on a day like this?" Alfred asked me in a mildly surprised tone. "I should think that you'd be outside."

True. Normally on the first snow day of the year, I liked to grab my coat and just wander around outside for a while. Sometimes I'd invite a friend over (or he'd invite me over) and we'd have a snowball fight or something. But not this time. I just wasn't in the mood.

"Actually, I was kind of wondering if I could talk to you for a minute."

"From the look on your face, I daresay it's something rather serious."

"I think so."

Alfred turned off the water at the sink where he had been washing dishes and came over to sit with me at the table.

How was I supposed to put this, anyway? I couldn't just blurt it out the way I had imagined. It had seemed so easy to do when I bumped into the wall a minute ago. Now, the words just wouldn't come out.

"I… I... was just…"

Taking a deep breath, I tried something completely different:

"I was just hoping you weren't still upset with me for not telling you where I was going that day…"

Pathetic little lie, yes. I've never been much of a liar, which is sometimes more curse than blessing. Like that day in the kitchen with Alfred.

"Master Dick, that was over two weeks ago!" Alfred said with slight laugh. "Of course I'm not still upset with you about that."

"Well, it's just been bugging me for a while." It sure had, but not in the way he thought! "I wanted to make sure."

I noticed that Alfred was looking at me thoughtfully as I stood up from the table, but I pretended not to notice and just headed for the door. I knew that he knew something was up. I could only hope that he wouldn't stop me and give me the third degree on this matter.

"There's something else bothering you, isn't there?"

Yeah, that figures. Alfred knows everything. He really should have been a fortune teller at the carnival instead of a butler. I mean it. He could have made his own millions by now if he had.

"Well… yes…" I finally admitted. "Do you trust me?"

"You know I do, Master Dick."

"Then please don't ask any more about this," I begged. "I'll tell you soon—promise—but for now, just please don't ask any questions."

Just for the record, the only reason I promised that was because I knew I wouldn't have a choice a few weeks from now.

Alfred sighed, but agreed. I could tell he wasn't happy about this, but it wouldn't be much longer before he and everyone else knew everything.

It had been a mistake to even tryto tell anybody about what the doctor had said. Now that Alfred knew something was wrong, he'd probably be watching me extra-closely from then on. I'd have to be careful.

That was when the lies started.

Like I said, I'm not very good at lying, especially not to Bruce and Alfred. But it's amazing what you can do in desperate situations.

Every time I had to go see Margie, I'd say that I had been invited to a friend's house or that one of the teachers had asked me to do something for him or her after school. Or something like that. Soon, these kinds of excuses got so redundant and so over-used that I was sure Alfred knew there was more to them than I was telling.

But, if he did suspect that I was being less than truthful, he never said or did anything about it. I was definitely grateful for that, even though I really wished that someone knew about my troubles except the doctor, Margie, and me.

About three weeks after my first appointment, I decided to make another trip to that doctor. Now don't get me wrong: I absolutely detest doctors. Who knows what prompted me to see her again? All I knew was that I had to talk to someone who knew my problem at least once more before it was all over for good.

Well, as things would turn out, I didn't quite make it to her office. Just as I was about to ask Alfred to give me a ride, the faithful 'butler' handed me the phone, saying it was for me. There was a kind of amused look in his eyes, and I was a bit suspicious about who was on the line. However, anybody who questions Alfred is automatically toast. So I took the phone.

"Hello?" I said tentatively.

"Hi. Remember me?"

"Bruce!" I cried, my apprehension completely gone. "It's about time you called! I've been worried sick, and Alfred wouldn't tell me anything. How've you been? Those Austrian doctors treating you okay?"

"Dick, I'm fine," was the (almost!) amused reply.

"Really fine?" I asked, feeling a little sick.

"Yes, I can see, Dick."

Completely forgetting my own problems, I just began grinning uncontrollably. I had known that Bruce would be able to see, but just hearing the news made me feel so much better.

"When will you be coming home?" was my next question.

"I don't know just yet, but it'll be soon. Very soon."

If it was possible to smile any wider, I managed it.

"You don't know how happy I am to hear that, Bruce. Really," I admitted. I didn't bring up the fights we had had, not wanting to remind Bruce of the misery of the past few weeks. But I kind of hoped that he'd know what I meant.

I didn't have time to find out whether he understood me or not. There were several odd noises in the background from Bruce's end of the line. Then he told me that he had to leave, but promised to call again as soon as he could. I was disappointed, but I didn't say so as I hung up.

Despite his promise, I never received another call from Bruce during the remainder of his stay in Austria. I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt—after all, he was probably still busy with operations and treatments and such. He had never broken a promise to me before, and I knew that he would only do so if there was a really, really, REALLY good reason for it.

Still, what with all that had happened recently, I couldn't help but feel betrayed.

Then, about a week ago, Alfred told me how he had gotten a call from that Doctor Whateverhisnameis in Austria. Something about how Bruce was coming home in a few days.

"But nothing from Bruce?" I almost begged.

Alfred must have sensed my disappointment, because he simply placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently.

"It's alright, I guess," I assured him, shrugging his hand off. Then, trying to sound cheerful, I added, "I mean, 'no news is good news', right?"

I don't think he believed me. I couldn't blame him.

Me: Just so nobody asks, I often put quotations marks around the term 'butler' when referring to Alfred because I don't think he's really their butler. Oh, sure, maybe TECHNICALLY he is, but since Alfred always seems to know everything and has complete control over the household, he shouldn't really be called the butler all the time.

Dick: 'Bout time you showed a little intelligence.

Me: Hey, I've got a pretty good vocabulary, haven't I?

Dick: That dictionary over there may just have something to do with that.

Me: I do NOT have a dictionary over here!

Dick: Oh, yeah? Then what's th--

Me: Just do the replies, buddy, just do the replies.

Reviewer Replies

perfectdisaster-I doubt this will do much to get rid of those nasty swirling thoughts, but the end is about two chapters away. Maybe that will help ('maybe' being the key word there...)

Onthnis-That's okay, TAP is really (REALLY) forgetful. But she's really glad to know that you're enjoying the story as much as you are.

kokomocalifornia-And it's after Three Kings Day now, too (that's January 6). So now she has absolutely no excuse for late updating, right? LOL.

60's-bat-fan-Batsleep... excellent idea... I just may try it out... thanks for reviewing!