A/N: I've been typing like crazy...and as a result, I got the second chapter up and ready as a treat!
Chapter Two: Inside the Past
I don't know how I was able to sleep that night.
Or if I slept at all.
I just remember lying on our creaky mattress, listening to the screaming of the neighbors through the paper thin walls, the ring of gunfire, Roman's little snores, the sirens from police cruisers and ambulances that made up the background noise and Mom's directions and over in my head.
Pack clothes for Roman and me.
Find the cookie tin with money and envelope.
Find the man the envelope was addressed to.
The questions that I was too afraid to ask Mom tolled over and over in my head like a church bell.
Who are we looking for?
How did he know Mom?
Does he know my father?
Is he my father…?
With each question came a hypothetical answer.
It might be Mom's Daddy…no…given what little Mom told us of him, I doubted he'd want anything to do with us.
"He was a minister who is very devoted to the Bible and the church." Mom said the one time I dared to ask. "Maybe a little too devoted."
Our grandma had died when Mom was finishing college.
And I knew nothing about my father except what Mom had just told me.
The one thing I knew for sure was that the man on the envelope was not related to the Falcones.
The Falcones…I turned on my side, thinking of the man I had called Dad for most of my life.
Being one of the sons of Carmine Falcone had bought him a lot of respect…and nothing but trouble for me. Even at my old school and my current one, the whispers of my surname were enough to send people scurrying away.
As if I was one of those plague doctors in the tattered history book I had.
All the better. The less attention I attracted, the better for me.
I never liked it when attention was turned my direction. Especially if it was from Dad. The less I think about it, the better.
Even at home, Dad acted like the tough shot criminal he wanted to be. I suppose having a man like Papa Carmine as your dad would result in you believing you were tougher than any of the cops that stayed clean.
Papa Carmine…I still shudder at the mention of his name.
He wasn't bad to me and Roman. Not that I can remember. He took me to watch Frozen at least six times in theaters and even bought me Elsa's ice dress to wear for Halloween. If he hated the movie, he never said anything about it.
When I would sing the songs, he would always listen and applaud. "You've got a beautiful voice, my little angel." Papa Carmine said during his last visit. "You do good at school this year and I will pay for you to learn how to sing."
And he would always ensure we had enough to eat whenever we went to his house for Sunday night dinners.
He would always dump more meat and pasta on Roman's plate. "A growing boy needs food to become big and strong just like his grandpa." Papa Carmine would say. Dad would beam and then after dinner would get Roman to show off what punching moves Dad had taught him that week. Papa Carmine would always smile.
But he never put that revolver he always carried away. It was something that spooked Mom.
Papa Carmine always carried that thing, even when Mom asked him to at least put it away whenever us grandkids were around. He would always tell stories about how it came in handy for him.
One time, he even threatened Bruce Wayne with that gun, holding it up to the man's face and telling him he could blow his head off and nobody would do anything.
"That's the power of fear." Papa Carmine bragged to us.
Mr. Wayne disappeared afterwards. Everyone thought Papa Carmine had something to do with killing the man and dumping his body in the bay or in a crematorium. He always denied it, even seven years later.
But he had a look in the deep brown eyes whenever he told the story.
He was proud.
Mom was always quiet at that part, her eyes lost in thought as she played with the pearls Dad had gotten her. I never really paid much attention to that moment.
But after getting her instructions…I wondered if she was regretting marrying into the Falcone family whenever Papa Carmine told the story.
All I could think about was a body floating among the flotsam and jetsam that polluted the oily and muddy waters of Gotham Bay.
Soon the orange brown lights outside our window faded to cloudy gray. It was a Monday morning…normally we'd be getting up to go to school, trying to be quiet so as not to wake up Mom.
But not this morning.
Mom had a mission for us.
If it was one of her rare weekends off, we'd go to the park to play or take the elevated train to a library or something. Sometimes we'd go to one of the diners and have a meal made by Mama Feta or Frank at Pauli's.
If not, we had to fend for ourselves. Sometimes we'd go to the diner and hang out there. Other times, we'd go to the closest library and just get lost in the picture books until the doors closed.
I untangled myself from Roman's hug and tiptoed into the main room. I was hoping Mom would be flipping pancakes, just as she always did on her mornings off. She made the best ones. But then again, every kid thinks that of their parent who cooks.
But the kitchen was as cold and dark as a cave. All that was missing was a bear or some other monster waiting to strike. Everything was in its place, nice and neat.
I looked at the door. The thin hotel chain was latched tight.
Hope fluttered in my chest like a butterfly taking flight.
Mom was still home. She had to be. Otherwise how could the chain be latched?
I crept to the closed bedroom door. I just wanted to take a quick peek. Just see Mom's sleeping form and then I'd creep back to bed and try to sleep.
Mom kept her bedroom very tidy and sparse. It was just a bed that we, again, salvaged from the streets along with cheap bedding from Walmart. Darkness shrouded the room.
Once again, everything was neat, the bed made.
I listened to the air, trying to hear if there was any sounds from the bathroom the three of us shared.
Nothing.
I looked at the curtained window overlooking the fire escape. The brown curtains were open and the dust that was caked on the windowsill was gone.
Of course she would've used the window…
She left us with no choice…
I opened the closet door and noticed the battered blue and gold cookie tin on the top shelf. Standing on my tiptoes, I reached up and grabbed the tin. I lowered it down…it slipped out of my fingers and crashed onto the ground with a clang that left my ears ringing. A big dent appeared in a corner where the lip of the lid met the tin.
Roman ran out of our bedroom and into Mom's. His brown hair was sticking up in every direction and his almond slanted eyes dazed in sleepy confusion.
He rubbed his eyes. "You okay?" Roman asked.
"Yeah." I said, picking up the tin. "Just clumsy fingers, that is."
"That's Mom's money tin." Roman said. His hands flew as I rested the tin on the bed and pried the lid. "You're not supposed to be opening it!"
"Mom gave me permission," I said, wedging my fingers beneath the dented lid and trying to pry it loose. The dent had jammed the lid shut and no matter how hard I tried; I couldn't get it open.
"It's stuck!" I grunted.
Roman thought before saying "Wait here." He left for a few minutes. There was rummaging in the kitchen before he returned with a flat head screwdriver. He held it out to me.
"Thank you, Roman." I said, pushing the head of the screwdriver between the dented lid and the side before pushing it up.
The lid popped open and we looked at the contents.
Coins littered the bottom along with a couple of one-dollar bills. Roman's eyes glittered at the sight of the shiny coins. I looked at the manila envelope and photograph sitting on top the money.
The photograph was taken on the steps of a gray stone building that looked like a castle. Two men and two women, dressed in jeans, sneakers and gray sweatshirts labeled Princeton, were sitting on the steps.
I gasped when I got a look at one of the women.
It was Mom. Her smile was reaching her eyes and she was smiling at one of the men, with curly black hair and dark brown eyes. He was smiling at her and their hands were entwined.
The other woman, who had long brown hair and sparkling green eyes was sticking her finger in her open mouth at the sight of Mom and the man but it's clear that she's joking.
The other man leaned against the stone railing, his arms crossed and resting his brownish-red hair against the stone. His brown eyes were cool, distant and thoughtful.
He was an odd sight against Mom and her group.
My fingers ran over their faces…I couldn't think about it. We would see Mom tonight.
She promised me.
I looked at the envelope. It was addressed in Mom's fancy cursive to "Alfred Pennyworth."
I looked at Roman. "Roman, I need you to do something for me."
Roman nodded.
"Pay attention. I need you to grab our backpacks and empty them out. Come back to me when you've done that."
Roman cocked his head. "We're not going to school today?"
"Yes, Roman. We're not going to school today…don't worry. Mom talked to our teachers." I said, picking up the tin before he could hyperventilate. "I'm going to be sitting at the table counting out the money."
I didn't tell him that I would be coming up with a story for him.
By the time Roman finished emptying everything from our backpacks, I had finished counting the coins and dollar bills.
Twenty-seven dollars and sixty-three cents.
I hoped it would be enough for a taxi and lunch. A common joke circulating around the Narrows was that the only reason people lived there was because it was the one place in Gotham most people could afford a place to live and a meal.
So twenty-seven dollars and sixty-three cents would be a fortune to these folks.
Enough to rob us…we'd have to be careful….
"I cleaned out the backpacks." Roman said.
"Thank you Roman." I said, sweeping the coins into a Ziplock bag and tucking it into the front pocket of my blue and white snowflake sweatshirt.
"Where are we going?" Roman asked as he put the empty backpacks on the chairs.
"We…are going on an adventure." I said, pushing the envelope and the photograph into my backpack.
Roman's eyes lit up like the great big Christmas Tree in Gotham City Plaza. "Like the ones you tell me?!" His little lips curled into a smile.
I nodded. "We're going to deliver something to someone and Mom should be joining us at the end of the journey. But it means you must pay attention and stay with me. Can you do that?"
Roman nodded.
"Good. Now I need you to get a clean change of clothes, including underwear and socks, your toothbrush, toothpaste and talking board and bring them here. Got that?" I said, firm.
Roman ran to our room, excited for our adventure. I went to the cabinet and took out some pop-tarts and the half full bag of stale tortilla chips.
Something told me that money wouldn't be enough.
Roman returned with what I asked him to get, putting them on the table with a proud smile on his face.
On top of his folded up clothes, socks, underwear and other things was our dog eared blue book of fairy tales. Pages from the extra stories I had written and Roman and I illustrated jutted out. "No Roman…we can't take the fairy book with us." I said, my heart throbbing in pain.
"But we might need it." He said, a tear gathering in his eye. "It might give us clues for how we beat the monsters or whatever might be fighting us."
I stopped. Maybe I shouldn't have told him that it was like the stories we read.
Although it would be much more dangerous…
Roman looked at me with wide eyes. "Please."
I smiled. "Okay." I said. "Let's pack you up and get changed. And I want you to brush your teeth and brush them good."
Roman grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste before going to the bathroom.
I grabbed my backpack and went to our room.
The sun was peeking over the horizon when Roman and I left our little apartment building. I had also packed a change of clothes in addition to my hairbrush, toothbrush, toothpaste and the picture of me with Anna and Elsa.
I took Roman's hand in mine and tucked my extra hand in my pocket so I can feel the baggie full of money. It was an anchor, something I could control. Nobody could take it from me and I wouldn't let them.
We walked down the street, Roman confident and excited and I cautious and my eyes darting around.
A few people were out and about. Typical for the Narrows, we just acknowledged each other with a nod and kept walking.
The Narrows is where people go to hide.
Like us.
Roman gripped my hand. I looked at him and saw that him smiling. "What are you so excited about?" I asked.
"We're on an adventure!" Roman said.
I nodded, trying to match my smile to his. "Roman…if we run into anybody, let me do the talking, okay?"
"Why?" Roman asked.
"It's….the rules of the adventure." I said, stumbling over my words. "I'm the wise wizard leading you."
Roman stopped walking, looked at me and laughed.
"What's so funny?" I couldn't help but laugh as well.
"I can't see you as an old man with a beard!" He said, wiping his face with his hand.
I have to admit, the thought was a funny one. "Well…girls can be wizards." I said, continuing our walk.
"Like Elsa?" Roman asked.
"Yeah…yeah…" I said, thinking. "Elsa is a wizard."
"I like you being a wizard." He said. "Do you like me being a prince?"
I squeezed his hand. "Oh yes…Prince Roman…I like that sound."
"And I like you being a wizard." Roman said.
It wasn't long before we crossed the bridge out of the Narrows and were in Midtown. The buildings weren't cramped together. There was less trash in the street and people were a bit more open.
Now we were close to the school. If we made two more turns on two more blocks, we'd be at the library where we could search for Mr. Pennyworth.
We had passed an apartment building when a boy's voice called out.
"Martha! Roman!"
Roman and I both stopped and looked back at the building. On the second floor balcony was a boy with sandy hair, waving at us.
We both recognized him from school and waved back. "Hi Jimmy!" I said, figuring that a brief conversation wouldn't hurt. "You heading into school soon?"
"Yep! Hold on a second." Jimmy said before turning back to his house. "Hey Mom! Can we give my friends a ride to school, please?"
My heart picked up a little bit and Roman looked at me.
"That's nice to offer, Jimmy." I said, chuckling. "But we're fine."
A woman stepped out, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. The rising sun reflected off of her sandy blonde hair. "Hi, Mrs. Gordon." I said as Roman waved.
"Hey, Martha and Roman, what are you both doing up so early?" Mrs. Gordon asked.
I tried to think when my rumbling stomach gave me an idea. "We're going to meet up with our mom at Pauli's for breakfast!"
Mrs. Gordon cocked her head, her gray eyes furrowing. I didn't like that look.
Jimmy's dad was a police officer. "Police officers in Gotham aren't to be trusted." Dad had told us. "They take bribes easy and if they're already in somebody's pocket…wheek…" he said, drawing his thumb across his neck in a slashing motion.
One phone call from Mrs. Gordon to her husband and we'd never be able to find Mr. Pennyworth.
"Let me get my keys, I'll drive you both there. And I insist. Your mom wouldn't like it if something happened to you. Come on, Jimmy." Mrs. Gordon said, turning back inside, Jimmy on her heels.
Once they were gone, Roman tugged my hand.
"Do we run?" He asked.
"Yes."
Roman and I turned up the street and ran.
A/N: Let me know what you think!