Chapter 33
I return home to find Oswald sitting on my living room couch, his legs spread slightly apart and his hands folded in his lap. He holds up a set of white kitchen worker's clothes.
"Could you be a dear and clean these for me?"
I cross my arms, "I'm not your maid, Oswald."
He pouts, "I know, but I've never been good at cleaning stains," he drops the set, revealing deep, dark blood stains marking up the pristine white cloth.
"Oh don't worry, I've already taken care of the body," he assures me.
He also scoots a pair of bloodied shoes from under the coffee table to complete the laundry work he's presenting me with. Pressing my index finger against my lips, I sigh, and smile, "Alright, but you have to do something for me."
"What?"
"This…? Why...why?!" Oswald protests as we walk up to a tall warehouse.
"You'll see why," I assure him.
There's a long line in front of the warehouse as we pass the front doors. A woman at the front greets us.
"Natalie, it's been forever, I was wondering if you'd ever show up here again. And who's this? Should I set up a private table for two-"
I smile, "No Ms. Thompkins, we're here to clock in some volunteer hours."
"Oh, that's wonderful! I'll set you two up in the kitchen," Ms. Thompkins leans in and whispers, "by the way, I liked the tall boy better. This one looks like he hasn't been getting any sleep."
I glance over at Oswald, who just seems to be staring off into space. When was the last time this guy has gotten a good night's sleep?
I take Oswald's hand, "C'mon, we're going now."
"Why are we volunteering at a soup kitchen? Have you gone insane?"
"I use to come here all the time as a kid," I explain.
He raises an eyebrow, "Yeah, but you don't need the assistance anymore. So, why come back?"
I stop and squeeze his hand, "I just feel like you need to see this place. Haven't you ever worked at a soup kitchen before?"
He shakes his head, and I smirk, "Don't knock it till you've tried it."
Ms. Thompkins leads us to the kitchen area, where several other volunteers are already working. After giving us hairnets and smocks she puts us to work bringing food out to the dining room.
"I still don't see the purpose behind this," Oswald protests as we bring out our first batch of trays.
I pull him to the side, "Look around. What do you see?"
The dining area is lined with long metal tables where countless men, women, and children are huddled or walking around with trays. They all wear the same dark, dingy, heavy clothing, their faces dirty and their heads bowed down.
"I see a bunch of crooks and thieves looking for a free meal," Oswald observes snidely.
I roll my eyes, "Says the guy who eats seemingly nothing but government tuna."
He scrunches his brow, and I smile at my small victory.
I set out the trays at the serving stations with Oswald. As we work, I take brief glances at him. I know that having him serve at a soup kitchen won't change him into an honest man, but it's a start.
We fill the trays with food and pass them out to the incoming guests. I notice a family of three come by and take the trays, one of them being a young boy. Oswald rudely shoves a tray at the boy, and I give him a dirty look. The boy just beams at him, "Thank you sir."
"Of course," Oswald grumbles back, his tone annoyed.
But as the small boy walks away with his family, Oswald watches as he happily rejoins his parents at one of the tables.
"Food for the kids at the Flea! Food and clothes please!" two teenaged boys cry out, holding out small bags as people drop small food items and token articles of clothing into them.
As the last trays are cleared off, I place my hand on his shoulder, "Not bad for your first round of customers," I compliment him.
"You are going to make this worth my while, right?" he asks, brushing his cheek against my hand.
My head jerks up as there's shouting sounds coming from the corner of the dining room. The young boy from before is surrounded by two older boys. The small boy cowers in the corner, holding a large apple in his hands.
"Just hand over the apple kid, you already had plenty of food," one of the older boys negotiates.
"Yeah, it's for a good cause," the other one chimes in.
The young boy holds the apple tighter to his chest, "Leave me alone!"
Before I can react, Oswald steps ahead of me and approaches them, "Hey kids, if he says he doesn't want to give up the apple, he doesn't want to give up the apple."
The two teenagers, while both around Oswald's height and perfectly able to take him on, begin to back up, "Okay...it's cool man, we'll leave the kid alone."
With one hand behind his back, Oswald flips out his pocketknife, "No, I think you boys need to learn a lesson."
"Oswald!" I cry, marching over toward him.
He turns his head around just in time for me to yank the knife from his hands and stuff it into my pocket, the entire transaction happening out of the boys' sight.
"The kitchen says you guys can help yourselves to extra servings in the kitchen," I tell the two teenagers.
"Thanks lady!" they call out as they scurry to the kitchen.
Oswald carefully approaches the young boy, still huddled in the corner. He gets down on one knee, "Are you okay?"
The boy slowly nods, and Oswald clears his throat and bows his head slightly, leveling with the boy, "If you want something, let no one bully you out of it. You do whatever it takes to get what you want, and keep it too. You understand?"
"Y-yes sir," the boy nods.
Oswald smiles, before rustling the boy's hair and standing, "Alright, run alone then."
The boy runs off to rejoin his family. Oswald slowly turns around to face me.
"May I have my knife back?"
While I'm touched by what he did for the boy, it still doesn't excuse what he was planning to do.
"No. You just tried to kill two kids," I whisper among the murmur of the dining area.
He glowers, his eyes becoming dark with anger, "People like those boys never learn. They'll just find new victims, others to lord over and abuse."
"They had good intentions, and it's not like they were going to hurt him," I defend, remembering the times I walked around asking for food for the guys at the Flea.
"They're bullies, just like the rest of them! The only way to fully silence them is with death!" Oswald shouts at the top of his lungs.
The dining area becomes silent as all eyes turn to us. I groan in annoyance, and grabbing Oswald's arm, pull him back to the kitchen.
"How about a wager?" I propose, "You don't kill anyone for a week, and I-" I stop as I realize I have nothing to offer him.
A devilish smile spreads across his pale skin as he wraps his arm around my hip, "You'll what?"
"What do you want?" it was a legitimate question, but I fear the answer.
"Don't play coy with me. You know what I want."
Could I make this bet? I mean, knowing him, he's probably going to break his promise at some point. The disappoint from his failure will be a wake up call to his problems.
"Alright then, it's a deal," I conclude, resting my head on his shoulder, "and I'm keeping the knife."
He takes my hand and kisses it, "Oh, please do. It'll be worth it."
Author's Note: Consider this the PSA chapter. I encourage you donate to a local food kitchen, or volunteer yourself. You could follow the example of Robin Lord Taylor and donate/volunteer at God's Love We Deliver in Brooklyn. Or if you're in the San Francisco area, St. Anthony's Foundation is where my school sends students to volunteer every year. Personally, I performed with my school string ensemble at the First Baptist Church's dinner service, and I'm performing an outreach concert with the school's women's ensemble this afternoon. Whatever time of year it may be when you're reading this, consider giving back a little, however you can
jasper-jordan: I agree, the chapter might have seemed odd on the outset, hopefully I can clarify their intentions in later chapters. The short version is: they're both trying to "fix" each other (and yes, I'm going to be taking this tired cliche in some interesting directions). Oswald's trying to make her see his Machiavellian view on the world, while Natalie is trying to put Oswald on the straight and narrow. As for romance between Natalie and Ed, just wait, something's coming. And on the question of whether Natalie is psychotic, may I quote Norman Bates, "we all go a little mad sometimes". As for Jack, at this point I can only react to what the show does with him (if anything at all, we haven't seen him since the pilot, I don't even know if his name is Jack), but he'll still play a part nonetheless
Dreamcatcher97: Thanks, I don't usually comment on fanfictions either (a bad habit I'm trying to break out of). And you read it all in one go? I'm curious as to how long that took. Hope you enjoy this next chapter!
The Beatles Babydoll22: Thanks, but I'm keeping my OCs limited to Natalie,her boss Simon, and the drugged out manager. And I've been meaning to get into Sons of Anarchy, but it's hard enough keeping up with Gotham, and I need to catch up with the Flash for a crossover I may-or-may-not be planning. One last thing, I love your username, my dad raised me on the Beatles
Fuchsia Grasshopper: Oh, Liza will be tying in, but how much depends on how far they go with her on the show, of course. And Ed's coming back, but I still can't pull off them completely meeting yet, I'll leave that to the show
Thanks! :)