Oh fuck.
We went to his house only to find that there was no one there. His mother is gone. According to the neighbours she ran off with her stoner boyfriend. God, I hate people. At least I get to keep my bud.
--
I took the kiddo to the park, but we left soon because this creepy man kept staring at me. Maybe I'm just paranoid, I don't know.
Soon after we left I ran into an old acquaintance. We're taking the train to Gotham, Mark and I, because he's never ridden on a train before.
--
It's times like this I'd like to be a mother.
This boy of mine doesn't want to leave me. He likes me more than his mom or his dad, and he doesn't want to go to Florida. Of course I'm still taking him, still the responsible adult, but that doesn't mean we can't stretch out the in-between time a bit.
--
Ah, Gotham, my old stomping ground. I haven't been here since the end of notebook three.
When my brother got married, he and his wife moved into the suburbs outside of Gotham, the very place where Dad grew up. When we were moving in furniture, Dad kept calling the place his "old stomping ground." I thought he was just being silly, but then he pointed out these bent-over, shriveled-looking little pine trees lining the sidewalk.
"Those were planted when I lived down the street," he said. "My friends and I would stomp on them every morning on the way to school." And he made this stomping motion…eh, I guess it's really more of a visual joke.
I wonder how the family's doing.
Well. Mark and I checked into a hotel. I promised to take him sightseeing…later. Right now I have to do some things. I hate leaving Mark alone but I sure can't take him with me.
I gave him instructions: if anything happens or I don't come back in two hours, he should call the phone number I gave him, ask for Robin G------, and say he's a friend of Liss's. (I hope D--- remembers me.)
I'm leaving the notebook so he can check if he forgets. Those two names need to be scribbled out as soon as possible. And, Mark, if you read any part of the notebook but this page…I will know.
Love ya, kid.
--
My research is complete. The Joker is in Arkham with slightly less chance of escaping than usual. I'm semi-safe on that front.
While I was out, I went to the museum. I left a little diamond chip I swiped last spring with a note for the Caped Crusader. Set off an alarm just as I was leaving, but was gone before anyone arrived.
I've started reading Watchmen again and I suspect Rorschach's fragmentary style will rub off on me like last time. Think I've grown up a little—I'm not put off by the maskless version anymore.
I wonder if Mark is old enough for this stuff? Maybe I could give him the censored version as a bedtime story. No, I'm sounding like a twat.
--
Once upon a time…
I took Mark with me to the old elementary school baseball field, and sure enough in a few minutes the Batmobile pulled up.
"You know Batman?" Mark yelled as he jumped up and down. (Taking him for an ice cream cone first was probably not the best idea I've ever had.) I was in costume, but the mask was hanging down my back so I could eat my cone, and so they would know it was me—after all, they've never seen me in this costume. Also, my hand was still in that damn cast, which spoiled the effect even more than my bare face.
Batman got out of the car followed by Robin. Batgirl didn't show this time. They say she's been cutting down on her Batwork and doing something else terribly important, nature unspecified.
Not important. Batman greeted me while Mark had himself a fit.
"Is he yours?" Batman asked.
"He's a lost boy," I said. "He's mine until I find his father." At that Mark stopped bouncing around and pouted. I finished my ice cream and put my mask back on. Batman noticed the cast on my hand.
"I met your friend Superman," I explained. "Nice guy."
We talked about various things, most of which I'd rather not record at present. Don't want all my secrets to fall into the wrong hands, or for my old acquaintance to get killed on my account—and he would, you know, if you-know-who knew you-know-what. Informantating can be a nasty business. Suffice it to say something is coming and I thought Batman ought to know about it. It's something I've anticipated for a while, something that would have amused me once, something I sure as heckfire don't want to stick around for now.
Ah, what the hell, I've never been good with riddles. The Joker and the Riddler are teaming up.
Run away!
I know I will.
--
Batman wants to trust me. I want to be trusted. Isn't that the damnedest thing?
The Joker, the boss, I've officially betrayed him now. I mean, there's just no question, is there? Now he'll really have a reason to kill me if he sees me. But…I don't want this to happen. I really don't want him escaping from Arkham if there's anything I can do about it. Funny, he's almost the only thing that can make me smile, but he's also the only thing that really scares me.
--
I've also gotten caught up on all my old friends, though I certainly won't be seeing any of them while I'm here.
Stephanie and Jason are living together and are supposed to be quite the happy couple, The Moores with a white picket fence and, someday, marriage and children. Celia quit school to become an actress, and after getting a part in a soap opera, realized that she hates acting. Too bad, I would have taken her to Italy. On last week's episode her estranged half-sister Madelain killed her by burning down her house while she was trapped in the bedroom with Madelain's husband. She now paints portraits in Gotham Park. Dick and Barbara were dating until recently, but they've broken up. Dick lives in Bludhaven now. He's a cop. Good boy, Dick.
I wonder what would happen if I just showed up one day among the old group? I'm supposed to be dead, you know.
--
Oh, Mark. Poor little guy. Seven-year-olds were not meant to stay up so late. My little guy. He is mine.
Now I get to make him breakfast.
--
Maybe all that time I spent with the Joker affected me more than I thought. I know I shouldn't do this, but I just want to see my friends again. More than that, I just want to see their reactions when I show up unannounced. I'm going to wait until Mark wakes up a little and take him with me.
--
Ah, beauty, beauty, beauty. Sweetness, thy name is Jason. Love, thy eyes are green.
Oh, how I've missed this. Mooning over Jason, driving myself to insanity over what they all thought of me. Only now I stand much more of a chance of their actually thinking something. So much more interesting am I now than when I flipped burgers for a living, so much more complicated than the sweet innocent, good little girl I was and would still be. Am I quietly hated or loudly loved? Or both?
I decided to go to Celia first. Individual meetings would be easier on everyone involved. Oh, Celia. I have missed you. I have missed you all.
Celia was in the park, painting a couple who were snuggled against each other. They were her only customers. I set Mark to watching her while I walked around the back, just sort of peeking. Oh, Cel, my beautiful friend. I hadn't even realized how much I missed you.
She didn't see me, so I made it behind her and got a look at the cute little couple. Well, what do you know. It's a small world after all.
Jason and Stephanie are married.
Jason saw me and recognized me, jumped to his feet, knocking Stephanie off the bench, and grabbed me before I had a chance to realize he was going to do anything. (Yeah, buddy, that's a great way to treat your wife.)
I knocked him down, grabbed Mark, and ran. Bad knee or no bad knee, I ran like the wind. They couldn't catch me.
I called Celia when I got back to the hotel.
--
Pretty fucking empty. Would kill myself except I just don't quite see the point.
--
God, God, why am I here? If I don't even know, then what the hell is the point? I should give Mark back, no matter how good he is to me. I don't deserve a child this good. I'm a terrible mother. Very bad criminal, too. I mean, wealthy, but an utter failure. You know?
Lately, because of Mark, I've been thinking of settling down, giving up my life of crime. Batman would be proud, and God knows I'm set financially. But what would be the point? For what purpose a dull and normal life? To what end ordinariness?
--
Oh, fucking shit. Today I was supposed to meet Celia again, maybe get out of this funk, stop scaring Mark, remember that I do have a friend who never stopped caring about me.
But instead I'm skipping town. Joker's out. Of all the old friends I don't want to see, he tops the list.