Chapter 14-
Now Seneca law is very boring! At least Gone with the Wind was a bit more fascinating. The book Uncle Peter gave me to read looked about as interesting as going to the dentist to have my teeth pulled.
I walked into my grandparent's house, hanging up the burden-strap as I put the book on the table. All the others were probably somewhere else as I didn't see them. Bruce, Rachel, and Alfred were not even there and considering how big my Indian family is everyone else was probably already visiting relatives. We were like the Irish at Christmas time. When the corn harvests came everyone gathered together for it.
I sat down at the oak table and opened the book. The Iroquois Constitution was the first thing in the book to read. Now someone who knew I was raised by Indians let me see their junior year lit book that had the Iroquois Constitution. The book had chopped and condensed it, but here I was reading it in its entirety.
Before I knew it I fell asleep over the pages. I didn't even hear Bruce, Rachel and Alfred come in until Bruce's fingers touched my face.
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Bruce felt satisfied. He had gotten a hold of Roberta's school and Lucius Fox. Roberta would start school next week and Fox had managed to send him some papers he needed to sign for the company, plus a paper from Roberta's school asking him for a donation to the fine arts program.
Bruce felt a smile cross his face as he stepped into the small house that Hamilton's mother and father lived in. Rachel stopped next to him. "Bruce, she looks so beautiful," Rachel said, tears in her brown eyes.
"Yes she is. I guess she decided to start the book that Hamilton's brother gave her," Bruce said, picking up the book and closing it. His daughter was right. It was heavy and the title was in a foreign language Bruce couldn't speak. If he was to bet anything it was the language that he had heard Roberta use when talking to the Indians here.
"This is not even written in English," Rachel commented, looking at the title.
"I noticed. Well, maybe Robbie could tell us what it means later," Bruce said, sitting down next to his daughter and brushing her face and hair gently with his fingertips. Roberta pushed his hand away as she sat up.
"Ugh," Roberta groaned, rubbing her eyes with her fingers.
"You okay, Robbie?" Rachel asked concerned.
"I think so. I'm tired and I was reading that book," Roberta said, standing up and walking to the sink. She poured herself a glass of water.
"Well, 'was' is your key phrase," Bruce said wryly.
"Huh?" Roberta asked.
"You were asleep, Miss Roberta," Alfred said with a smile.
"I was?" Roberta asked.
"You were. I hated to wake you. You looked so cute sleeping there. But you won't sleep tonight if you fall asleep now," Bruce said, grinning at her.
"Bruce, shut up!" Roberta snapped as she opened the ancient refrigerator and pulled out a pan.
"What's that?" Bruce asked, choosing to ignore her rudeness. Roberta opened it.
"Chicken corn chowder from two days ago. My grandmother doesn't believe in tossing out leftovers until they get too old to eat or it's all gone," Roberta said, putting it on the stove and turning on the burner. She added half a glass of water to the pot.
"Miss, do you want me to cook this?" Alfred asked as she fished a wooden spoon out of a drawer.
"I am the worst cook ever, but even I can cook this. There's no way I can mess this up," Roberta said, stirring the contents of the pot.
"I'm sure you're not that bad, Sweetie," Rachel said, kissing Roberta's forehead gently.
"You haven't tasted it yet, Rachel My mom she gave up a long time ago teaching me how to cook. She says the only thing I cook well is microwave food or picking up the phone and ordering a pizza," Roberta said, rolling her eyes.
"Well, I guess we can get your grandmother to come teach you. My mother was hired by your father's family to be a cook. I think she could teach you," Rachel said.
"I don't know. I guess I just like eating food; not cooking it. Mom says I need to slow down and take my time, but I just get impatient with things like food," Roberta said, turning the burner off and preparing four bowls of soup.
"Robbie, you don't have to fix us anything. We ate as I picked up some papers in town," Bruce said as she picked up the second shallow earthen bowl.
"I see. I just thought you might be hungry," Roberta said as she put the bowls up in the cabinets.
"It was sweet of you to consider us, though," Rachel said as the Hamiltons' all came into the cabin.
"Long time, no see. Where were all of you?" Roberta asked as she went and hugged Patrick Hamilton. Bruce felt a brief flash of pain. This pain was worse than being injured as Batman, but he had to keep reminding himself that Roberta would never love him if he interfered in the relationship she had with the doctor and his wife.
"I had to go deliver a baby and your mother and grandmother helped. And your grandfather had to keep the husband from stopping me. As much as I'm part of this tribe through your grandmother, there are a few that don't like the fact that I have a white father. Now what have you been doing?" Hamilton asked, jerking one of Roberta's dark braids.
"Trying to read that book that Uncle Peter gave me and then when Bruce and Rachel came back they woke me and I fixed some leftover chicken corn chowder. I think it's safe if someone else cooks it and I heat it up," Roberta said, rolling her eyes.
"How is reading the book going for you, Rachel?" Michael Hamilton asked a grin on his old face.
"I don't know, Grandpa. I can speak Seneca really well. Jack even said that some of the people of the tribe say that I speak it better than a lot of people who have been around it all their lives. But reading the language is another thing entirely. Seneca is like a second nature to me, but I don't read the language quite as well as I speak it," Roberta said, taking the book out of Bruce's hands.
"It takes a while. You are learning. It took you almost a year to learn the language at all. I had to speak to you over and over again until you got the point. Why do we fall, Rachel?" Patrick asked.
"Is that a trick question?" Roberta asked, quirking her eyebrows.
"Just answer the question," Patrick said firmly.
"I don't know, Daddy," Roberta said in a small voice.
"So you can learn to pick yourself back up. What did I tell you when you first learned how to ride a bike and you fell off?" Patrick asked.
"Get up and try again even if I keep falling," Roberta said in a tiny voice.
"Exactly. You get up no matter how many times you fall. I'm going to see about giving you something that your grandfather gave me before I went to medical school. It's Lincoln's road to the White House. Learning something should be a snap if you see how many times he failed before he became President," Patrick Hamilton said.
"He failed a lot?" Roberta asked nervously.
"In more ways than you know and had a nervous breakdown," Patrick said, cupping Roberta's face gently.
"Dad, you're not really helping me with words like 'nervous breakdown.' "Roberta said with a grin.
"Sorry. I just thought someone else's experiences could help you. I'm just saying that when you fall get right back up. You don't know what you're capable of until you try," Patrick said.
"So, do you think I can run the tribe, Dad? White blood and the fact that I'll be coming from Gotham four or five times a year?" Roberta asked.
"Sure do. I think you are the most qualified person for the job that I know. Of course it won't happen until after you graduate from college. So you have a few years to learn the job along with the job you are going to college for," Patrick said as Roberta sat down with her bowl and started to eat.
Bruce sat next to her. "Dad, I don't know what I want to do yet when I graduate from college," Roberta said between bites.
"I could see a future doctor or lawyer, but that's up to you," Patrick said.
"Thanks, Dad. I guess I just better get a fondness for the Seneca language. I might be speaking and writing it for the rest of my life," Roberta said, blowing out her hair away from her face. Roberta was annoyed and confused. A fourteen-year-old was getting more than she bargained for, but Bruce knew she get through it. She was his daughter. She already looked like him in a lot of ways and he could see his personality in her when he was fourteen. He only hoped that she wouldn't join him in fighting crime when he was Batman. Batman had endangered her when she was three. He wouldn't let it happen again.