Anthem

By the time he returned, flustered and only a little bit disheveled from breaking up a fight between two hormone-riddled boys, the classroom was full of noisy students. Tara hadn’t even noticed them come in so lost was she in her meditations, and she methodically began to search every face for Cassidy’s peculiar eyes, one blue and one brown. She was completely unsurprised when she saw her in the back of the class, making out with her boyfriend, Max. Max was exactly the type of boy she usually went for, the type nobody expected her to. He was into Gotham’s grunge scene, and he loved reading murder mysteries. He listened to a lot of darker music, and wore a lot of darker clothes. Tara thought it contrasted nicely with Cass’s overwhelming brightness. She turned back to the front of the classroom in time to see her new teacher stop in front of the blackboard.

“Now,” Edward Nygma said, and instantly he had the attention of everyone in the class, not that Tara’s attention hadn’t already been directed at him anyway. But the rest of the class looked at him silently, too. Tara was impressed. Usually teachers had to jump through hoops to get the students at the school to stop talking for five minutes, let alone actually pay attention to any sort of a lesson.

“I’ve taken the liberty of looking over your papers from last time, and I’m very disappointed. I’m incredibly shocked to say that only one student got them all right,” he sounded fairly indignant, and his gaze rested on Tara, “Miss Tara Quinzel.”

Someone in the back spoke up, “Riddles don’t got nothin to do with English!”

Mr. Nygma brought one of his hands up to his face and rubbed his temple. Tara noticed how his hand glided over his skull before raking through his tousled brown hair in what looked like a habitual gesture.

“Apparently, neither do hood rats like you,” Mr. Nygma said coolly, his voice low and dangerous. There was an unspoken threat in it that she wasn’t completely sure the boy in the back could hear. Maybe she had just gotten good at reading people from her time with the Scarecrow.

Tara had to bite her lip. None of her other teachers ever stood up to the students, they just sent them out of the classroom when they got rowdy. Her eyes sparkled with interest as she watched him expertly handling the situation.

“Riddles, you see,” he said loudly, his voice dropping the low tones, instead ringing brightly through the classroom, “especially word puzzles, like the ones I gave you, are a wonderful way to explore the nuances of the English language. They force you not only to think about the meanings of words as you know them, but what they must sound like to an outsider, perhaps someone who is just beginning to learn English.”

Tara didn’t realize her neck was straining forwards, as though she had to listen closely to every word to hear it. As though he was whispering, rather than announcing. As though his words held a meaning that nobody else could decipher, that was meant for nobody else but her.

“For instance,” he looked directly at Tara for just an instant, “there is an element of royalty about certain words, don’t you think, class?”

“So, we’re going to try a few as a class. Try to keep up, won’t you? Here’s one: I always run and never walk. I often murmur, but I cannot talk-”

Tara heard someone behind her mutter, “I wish you couldn’t talk.” It sounded like the same boy who had spoken earlier. She wanted to hit him, but she settled for glaring meanly in his direction.

Mr. Nygma’s upper lip twitched at the interruption, and he took a breath before he continued, “I have a bed, but I cannot sleep. I have a mouth, but never eat. Who am I?”

Tara knew the answer to this one, it was easy, but she didn’t raise her hand. Nobody else did, either. Mr. Nygma paced the front of the room, looking each student in the eye in turn. They always looked away first. Even Tara. She could tell that by not answering his question, they were making him angry, and anger made her nervous. It never ended well for her.

“Come now, surely someone must know the answer. It isn’t hard,” he mocked, but his voice had an edge to it, as though through his annoyance at nobody knowing the answer, he was happy. Happy to be the only one in the room who knew. It was like the knowledge was some great blessing that he hoarded and teased them with…

“River,” she abruptly said, and it sounded only a little more panicked than she wanted it to.

Mr. Nygma strode over to her confidently. His shoes made a clacking noise on the tile that everyone could hear due to the silence in the room. Every step closer made Tara sink farther and farther down into her seat, until she knew she had to resemble someone trying to melt through the floor. She felt like a melted popsicle.

“Good job, Tara. I knew there had to be someone here who knew the answer,” he said, and his eyes shined with an excitement that Tara could tell went far beyond having a student answer a riddle.

Tara attempted a smile, but it came out looking more like a grimace. Mr. Nygma chuckled, shaking his head.

“We’re going to play a bit of a game, if nobody minds…” Not one student spoke up. He grinned like a madman. “Nobody? Good! Well, it’s one of my favorite games, and Miss Tara here has won herself immunity. Everybody but her, go to the right side of the room.”

Nobody moved, and for a split second Tara thought he was going to snap and hit someone. She imagined the sound the impact of his fist against someone’s face would make. She pictured him breaking somebody’s nose, sending their blood splattering against his impeccably clean jacket. All she could hope was that his chosen target wasn’t her.

Suddenly, though, he tilted his head back and let out a few short, sharp-sounding laughs. He smiled at the class and shook his head. The entire class noticeably relaxed, and the tense atmosphere dissipated like smoke long after the fire has been put out.

“But seriously, though,” he said, “move.”

Slowly, all the kids got up and began making their way to the right side of the room. The sound of many voices grumbling in complaint filled the air, and Mr. Nygma looked Tara directly in the eye and winked.

She immediately faced the ground, a blush creeping up onto her cheeks. She put her head down on the desk, eager to hide her blush. Mr. Nygma’s voice explaining the rules of the game felt far away, and her eyes slipped closed. The gentle murmuring in the classroom served as a lullaby, and she found herself drifting off into sleep.

She dreamed about being on a boat. The sea was calm, and the waves gently lapping at the edges of her boat seemed harmless. She could see the shore, and Harley was sitting on it, sunbathing. Tara looked closer and she could see that she was wearing her doctor’s coat. Tara smiled. She had gotten the job, after all. Cassidy and Andrea were playing beach volleyball. Tara looked back out to the sea. There was a bird circling her, and she felt a vague sense of foreboding coming from it. Upon further inspection, she discovered it was a crow. She shuddered, and tried to distract herself. Off in the distance, she could see an island. It looked like a perfect oasis. There were palm trees and lush greenery all over it. She looked around the boat, trying to find paddles, but she couldn’t find any. She shrugged, remembering being a strong swimmer. She took a deep breath and dove into the water, wanting to get to the island. The water felt a lot colder than she had expected. She surfaced after what felt like an eternity, gasping for air. The waves seemed a lot bigger, and they tossed her body this way and that. She looked to the shore, but her friends and family had disappeared. She tried to find the island, but it was gone, too. Realizing what a bad idea jumping in the water was, she turned around, hoping to get back into the boat only to find that it was gone, too.

“Tara… Tara…”

Tara’s eyes widened, and she looked up, hoping to at least find the ugly crow that had been circling, but it was gone, too. She began to swim in a random direction, and the waves grew stronger.

“Tara!”

She felt herself slip below the surface of the water, then resurface. She had the feeling that the waves were turning her, and she wasn’t making much progress in any direction. Tears of frustration began to make trails down her face. She wouldn’t have noticed them, but they were much warmer than her surrounding skin. She swam harder, even though all it was doing was draining her energy. She slipped below the surface again.

“Tara, wake up.”