Chapter 16- Old Memories and Private Jets

I guess I could say that the rest of the harvest went well. All too soon it was over and I was promising my relatives that I would be back in January for the tribal council meeting. Of course my mom and dad would be coming up to Gotham as soon as they got the house sold and found some place in Gotham to live.

So as soon as the harvest was over I found myself looking at a private jet at the airfield twenty miles from the reservation. Bruce opened the door for Rachel and she stood next to me as the door to the jet opened.

"So, what do you think?" Rachel asked, slipping her arm around my shoulders.

"Nice plane," I said as Alfred and the pilot took our suitcases and carry-on bags.

"Is that all you can say, Robbie? You used to love it when we left Gotham and we'd use the jet," Bruce said as we walked to the plane.

"I did? I don't remember," I said in a small voice.

Bruce wrapped his arms around me; hugging me tightly. "It's all right. No one expects everything to come back to you," Bruce said, stroking my hair gently.

"Well, I guess it's too late to say I have a small problem with heights," I said, putting my bag under my seat and sat down.

"Yes. It's too late," Bruce said as he pulled some papers out of his briefcase and put them on the tray in front of them.

"How long have you had the problem with heights, Miss Roberta?" Alfred asked as I pulled out my ipod.

"It was sometime when I was thirteen. One of my cousins thought it'd be fun to go bungee jumping. Let's just say that I had the same reaction to bungee cords that I had to school shots when I was five. By the time it was over I was screaming and crying. My dad had to sedate me to shut me up," I said, putting the head phones in my ears.

I turned the ipod on to my favorite Jason Mraz song, "I'm Yours" and sat back so I wouldn't have to look out the window. If I had noticed Bruce and Rachel were looking at each other and then at me with concerned looks. Their conversation was just as concerned.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

"I thought she was only terrified of shots. She got upset when I told her that we have a DNA test scheduled when we get back," Bruce said to Rachel and Alfred. He could only hear Roberta's ipod a little. He hoped the ipod's ear buds kept Roberta from hearing his concern.

"Bruce, Dr. Hamilton was right about one thing. She's going to need support. It's hard enough being a teenager when everything is normal. She didn't ask for shots and heights," Rachel said.

"I know. I just thought she'd like the jet like she used to. Remember when we took her on a business trip to London and then Hawaii," Bruce said, smiling at his daughter. He could hear Brittney Spears's "You Drive me Crazy" coming out faintly from her ipod. She had liked music when she was small. Rachel's mother had introduced her to Raffi and Roberta just about wore out his songs. He had looked through her CD'S when she was out in the cornfield. She was mostly into the soft rock thing. She had Backstreet boys, Taylor Swift, and Celine Dion. The only country he could see was Josh Turner, Martina McBride, and Vince Gill with a lot of Christian CDs.

"I'm under the impression that the doctor and his wife don't travel much, Sir," Alfred said as he gave Bruce a bottle of water and Rachel tea.

"That could explain a lot about her flying phobia. Actually bungee jumping would terrify me too," Rachel said as Roberta fell asleep.

"I more or less do that every night when I go out as Batman so I don't have a problem with it," Bruce said as he put his signature on the bottom of one page.

"Bruce, are we going to lock the entrance to the cave that is in her bedroom?" Rachel asked concern in her dark brown eyes.

"I thought about it, but, Rachel, what do we tell her if she asks why she can't go through there?" Bruce asked.

"Why don't we just tell her the truth? We are trying to protect her. It's bad enough that she knows that her father is Batman," Rachel said, reaching out and pulling out the ear buds and turning off the ipod.

"I didn't actually plan for her to find out, Rachel. I know I promised to never tell her that I was Batman. She found out by accident," Bruce said stiffly. He loved Rachel, but this was just exasperating that she could think that he'd endanger Roberta in this way. It wasn't even his fault that Ra's al Ghul had kidnapped Roberta in the first place. He had thought the man was dead. He had no idea that he'd come back and kidnap Bruce's baby girl in vengeance.

"I never blamed you, but she has already been put into danger once because of Batman. It was a miracle she wasn't killed. I don't want her hurt this time, Bruce. I want her safe," Rachel said sadly.

"I know, Rachel. I'll lock the door to her room. But if she does get into trouble Batman will save her. Even though she's Bruce Wayne's daughter; she's also Batman's daughter. Ducard knows that and that was why he took her the first time. I think he thought that the only way to hurt me was through someone I loved and the papers bragged on how much I doted on her when she was born. I fussed over her more than you did," Bruce said.

"I know we're going to see your picture in the paper as Batman, but is there any way we can limit how much she sees you as Batman?" Rachel asked her eyes large with concern.

"I could always do what I did when she was born. I can go out as Batman after she goes to bed," Bruce said wearily as Roberta woke up, rubbing at her eyes with her hands.

"How long was I asleep?" Roberta asked groggily.

"Not long. Why don't you go back to sleep, Miss Roberta? You've been up before dawn," Alfred suggested. Bruce smiled at his friend. Alfred had been a father figure to Bruce all those years after his parents had died. Alfred had always been there for him and his protection and loving ways had gone to Roberta. In a way Alfred was like her grandfather since she would never know Thomas Wayne.

"I'm okay. I guess I can get some of the Seneca constitution in. Where's my ipod?" Roberta asked, looking around.

"Right here," Rachel said, handing the ipod and ear buds to their daughter.

"Thank you," Roberta said, putting the ear buds in her ears and pulling out the thick volume of Indian law.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Now I really did have to read this book, but I didn't want to tell Bruce or Rachel that I had a memory while I was asleep. I figured it could wait until we landed in Gotham and I could tell it later.

But since all of you aren't Bruce or Rachel I guess I can tell you. Bruce had just said that I loved flying in the jet. Well, I still don't like heights, but while I was asleep I remembered a trip and I was flying in this same jet. But the memory itself scared me a little.

All these memories, as scattered as they are, are a little overwhelming. Like Janie in The Face on the Milk Carton they are almost too much when I think of my other memories with Mom and Dad. I guess I must have made a face because I felt Bruce touch my knee gently.

I nearly jumped out of my seat. Bruce's eyes were full of concern. I turned off the ipod and looked into his eyes. One thing about his eyes was that even though Bruce can be a little gruff and stoic, his eyes are different. He could be frowning and his eyes would reveal how much he loved me, Rachel, or Alfred.

"Are you all right, Robbie?" Bruce asked.

"I don't know. It doesn't help if you scare me out of my wits," I said sarcastically.

"Sorry. You just got this look on your face," Bruce apologized, patting my knee gently.

"It's nothing. Just a little confusion over a bit of wording," I lied. Now I know that wasn't the truth. I also know I'm not a very good liar. Most people who know me know that about me. Apparently Bruce knew that too.

"You know, it's not a good thing to lie to your father," Bruce said sternly.

"I know, I know. I got that lecture when I was five or six. I lied to Dad and he was angry," I said, putting my bookmark in the book I was reading.

"You shouldn't lie to me either. I'm a lawyer," Rachel chimed in.

"It's a good thing then that I'm a terrible liar. My dad always says he knows when I'm lying," I said.

"Actually so do I. I could always tell when you were being less than truthful when you were little and now," Bruce said, with a grin.

"So, am I in trouble?" I asked nervously.

"I won't punish you this time, but don't you ever lie to me again. If you lie to me how do I know when my little girl is telling me the truth?" Bruce asked, reaching out and touching my face gently.

I couldn't argue that point. Looking into Bruce's eyes he reminded me of Dad. Dad would have said the same thing too.

"So, what's wrong?" Rachel asked, going back to why I was making faces to begin with.

"I was just remembering something from when I was little. I think I remember being on this plane once," I said, looking around at the plane.

"What do you remember?" Bruce asked, putting his hands on my shoulders.

"Not much. I just remember the plane. The look of it," I said, wrinkling my forehead.

"You don't remember going to London or Hawaii when your father had business outside of Gotham?" Rachel asked.

"No. We went to London and Hawaii?" I asked, cocking my head to the side.

"Yes we did. You loved it though. I'm going to Italy in a few weeks. Would you like to come? You and your mother can go shopping while I do business," Bruce said, wrapping strands of my hair around his fingers.

"I guess so. I always did want to see Italy," I said, trying to forget my phobia of heights. I always did want to travel, but I always wanted to forget the flying part just to get there. I guess I could chalk it up to being one of the perks of having money.

"Did you never travel much when you were younger, Miss Roberta?" Alfred asked. Alfred always looked concerned over me, Bruce, and Rachel. He kind of reminded me of a loving grandfather; even though I already had one.

"Not really. There was the reservation when we moved to Cedar Rapids and me and Mom like to go Christmas shopping in Chicago. The malls look really good up there. Also we took an RV to go camping and Dad took me to Disneyworld when I was 7 or 8. It was my birthday and Dad thought going to Florida would be fun. Mom is not exactly the Mickey Mouse type so she went shopping while Dad took me on all the rides," I said, remembering spinning around in Alice's Mad Tea Party. The cups had made me slightly dizzy, but it was fun.

This expression on Bruce's face caused me to stop. It was still pained as if I had slapped him across the face. I didn't know what to do about this. I didn't mean to hurt Bruce, but it was hard not to feel disloyal to Dad too. I couldn't win in this situation. If I suddenly called Bruce "Dad" and ignored my dad then Dad would be hurt and I'd be seeing the pain that was in Bruce's eyes in Dad's. It seemed as if all I did was hurt either one.

"I'm sorry," I managed to choke out before getting up and going to the bathroom as fast as I could on a plane up in the air. It wasn't that fast since my legs felt wobbly and I felt as if I was going to fall over. I locked myself in the bathroom and sat down on the floor. The bathroom was really very nice. Bruce's plane made me think of the movie Air Force One that I watched with Dad a couple of months ago. It was a plane, but it wasn't like most planes that I had seen on TV or books.

I swallowed hard and started to cry over this whole mess. I was just a kid and I didn't know how to fix it.