Around 7:00, I got another new one. This one didn't look like he could possibly be one of Them.

Well, I've been wrong before.

"Hello, Space Monkey," said the tall, thin man in the shabby suit. There was nothing at all intimidating about him. He wore glasses, and his jacket had those patches on the elbows. But when he called me by my stupid nickname, I got the urge to run away and hide.

"Scarecrow," I guessed. He looked pleased that I'd heard of him. "My real name is Frances."

"Jonathan Crane." He stared at my hair. "Most people would be afraid to look like that in Gotham City. Are you fearless, child?"

"No, just ignorant. It never occurred to me who I was imitating until it was too late."

"You could have changed the color."

"He might take it as an insult. I'm really not that brave, Professor Crane…it is Professor, isn't it?"

"You haven't run away yet. You may be braver than you think. Anyway, it would be fun to find out for sure, wouldn't it?" He smiled at me. "You know, your eyes are lovely when you're terrified."

I tried to smile back, but even I have limits.

"C-can I get you anything?" My voice came out as a little squeak.

"I would love to have you as a test subject. Do you think we could set something up?"

"I'd rather not, thanks." Always be polite. Always be polite. Manners will get you far in life. Dear sweet Jesus, be polite.

"Oh, all right. Some other time, then." He looked so mild-mannered. I honestly can't explain why I felt so scared of him.

"Would you like anything to eat?" I had to ask. It's my job. I guess it's just the Smallville in me. Besides, he didn't look like a guy who got regular meals.

"No."

"Nothing? Not even an egg roll?" He looked at me strangely. I managed to smile this time.

"Have you lost your fear? That was fast." He took a notepad and a stubby pencil out of his pocket and wrote something down. "How do you feel right now?"

"Like I'm about to throw up," I said honestly. "But I also feel like I'll have failed my Waffle House trainers if I let you leave without selling you something."

"And that frightens you?"

"No…it just doesn't feel right. We have really good egg rolls," I said hopefully. The front door opened. He didn't notice. I made "go away" eyes at the new customer, who just happened to be my roommate. She ignored my signals.

"Hi, Frances," she said, completely oblivious. The Scarecrow turned to look at her. Oh, crappity crap.

"Hi, Sally," I said. "I was just telling Professor Crane how good our egg rolls are." She didn't pick up on the name. Crap, crappity crap.

"Oh, yeah, they're great. You should really try one. And the Chicken and Broccoli. I can't get enough of that ginger sauce."

Why did she have to be so clueless and friendly?

He took her advice. (The part of me that thought he needed a sandwich momentarily took over and slipped him an extra scoop of rice, and then went to gibber in the darkest corner of my mind.) Their food came out at the same time, and they left together, chatting like old friends.

By the next day, my dorm room was a single. Poor Sally. She still hasn't completely recovered.

But I'm skipping ahead.