Remembering Jack

The street lights cast the silhouette of a man across the street, smoking a cigarette. A hat covered his face and a dark trench coat fluttered around him. Thunder clouds were building up ominously in the sky. The moon was nowhere to be seen. Joker tapped his foot lightly on the pavement, as though he were testing whether or not it would hold him. He stepped forward and straightened up a bit, his back cracking ever so slightly. Harley stood in front of him, rather than behind him. He didn’t trust anyone to stand behind him at all.

She was crouched down slightly, waiting for her signal. He tapped her back gently and she relished the psychical interaction from him. It had been the first in a while. She removed her jester’s hat and handed it to him. He took it with his thumb and forefinger, his nose wrinkled up at the sight of it. He shook it gently, listening to the bells. They weren’t as loud as they had been. Neither was she…

He stepped down a little harder, making sure that it gave away his direction. The man turned swiftly, throwing his cigarette to the ground. Joker focused on him, watching his every movement. He was still there. Harley had snuck around the other side of the building and would come up from behind him. Joker would approach from the front, giving him no means to escape.

He bent his head to the side and cracked his neck as he reached in his pocket to pull out one of his knives. He patted the pocket and listened to the jingling of the others. With a wide smile spread across his scarred face, Joker slinked forward as quickly as he could afford to. His eyes darted all about him, looking for anyone that could be working – or watching -- for this man. Anyone that could sneak up on him. He sensed no one around and covered his face up with the collar of his coat.

The air smelled of rain and he knew that any moment it would begin to fall. He hurried himself along, edging across the front of the building where the man stood. He could hear lightly padded footsteps from afar. It was Harley, no doubt. He nodded in approval. She was just in time. That’s how he liked it.

He turned his head and looked at the man looking past him. He was breathing heavily, almost wheezing. It made Joker want to burst out into hysterics. I’m right here, he wanted to scream. Right here.

He grabbed the man as soon as he was close enough. A startled cry was released from him and Harley’s bells could be heard not far off as she started to run. The man’s arms were bent behind his back in a painful position. His face gave it away. Joker, bored, threw the hat off the man’s head and stared at him.

“H-hey mister,” the man stuttered, “I-I ain’t got much. Please… please don’t take it. I got to pay it to someone. Please.”

“I know,” Joker cooed, rubbing the side of the man’s face; he leaned in close so that his lips were to the man’s ears, “I followed you.”

“P-p-please…” the man started to tremble and shake, tears running down his face. “I want to see my wife again. I need to pay this… this money. I need to.”

For the first time that night, Joker laughed out loud. He tilted his head to the side. “You know, I think I’ve been in a similar… predicament before.”

“Y-you you have?”

The Joker nodded his head in agreement and pulled his collar down. “Yes. You see, I’m not that different from you…” he started to dig through the man’s pocket, looking for identification, “Mrs. – oops – Mr. Stanley. There isn’t much difference at all.”

The man called Mr. Stanley leaned his head forward, looking with wide eyes, trying to determine who this man was. What he wanted. It had to be money… that’s what all criminals wanted. He had money to give, too… if he could just have his life. He knew that if he died at that moment, there would be no hope for his wife. He gasped and recoiled at the Joker’s face.

“You.”

“Yes, me,” Joker agreed. “Who else would it be? I can only be one person. And if I could choose to be anyone else… well I wouldn’t.” He threw his arms up and laughed at his own self. “And why would I?” he asked, waving his knife around. “I think I’m a pretty… swell guy, don’t you?”

The man trembled and gave no reply. He turned his head away and looked down the alley way. “Hey,” Joker said, patting his face, “Don’t turn away from me. I was talking to you.” He raised his eyebrows and smacked the man’s face lightly. “Now listen. I know you think you want to save your little wife. Well that’s nice. Actually… no it isn’t. Because you don’t want to save her. Not really.”

They both looked at one another for a long moment, neither speaking.

“You know what you want?” Joker asked, tilting his head to the side. He lifted his knife to his right cheek and lightly traced over it with the tip of the blade, as if in deep thought. The man, in desperation, lunged forward and kicked Joker, causing the knife to slice his flesh. Joker growled, barely fazed by the wound at all.

Harley pulled out her gun and aimed it straight at his head. “No,” he ordered, “No. Stand up.”

The man slowly rose to his feet. “Stand up!” Joker screamed, grabbing his coat collar.

The man shut his eyes tightly and whimpered ‘please’ several times. “I was going to let you go,” Joker said in a bored tone. “I’m disappointed in you, Mr. Jones.” He touched the cut on his check and laughed when he saw his own blood. He pointed his forefinger at Mr. Jones’ face and gave him a crooked smile.

“I am nothing like you!” Mr. Jones’ exclaimed, wildly looking from the Joker to his knife and back to Joker again.

Joker sighed and grabbed Mr. Jones’ neck and placed the blade directly under his chin. “Oh, but you are. That’s how I know what you want. And you know what it is you want?” Joker waited a moment for him to give an answer. “Don’t get shy on me now!” He grinned and bared his teeth.

“I want you to leave me alone,” Mr. Jones’ replied defiantly, “And I want to live!”

Joker licked his lips and laughed. “Uh, no you don’t.” He grinned at Harley and beckoned her forward. She stepped beside him obediently as he leaned close to her. “Harley,” he said in a childish voice, “what should we do with him? The man is obviously in denial.”

She laughed and gave him a knowing look. “We should tell him what he wants so he knows why he’s going to die!”

The man gasped in horror and tried struggling, though it affected neither Joker nor Harley. Joker grinned and patted her on the back. “Right. Hold him for me, will you?” He released Mr. Jones’ and straightened his jacket up and slicked back his hair. Glancing around, he sensed the rain drops would start to fall at any moment. He didn’t want to be out when that occurred.

“Okay,” Joker said, circling around the other two. He held up two fingers and walked around as though he were teaching a class. “Where were we, oh, let’s say… two years ago? We were on top!”

Harley nodded like an obedient child, watching him with fascination. She whispered to the man, “Listen to what Mistah J has to say.”

“And then… well that silly little Batman came along and ruined it all. So I’m in a bit of a… dilemma. I’ve been cast out by everyone, including my own kind! I had to give up my home. My employees left! But not to worry, they’ll get theirs. No, that’s not what gets me, you see, what really, really gets me is that they’re offering money for me. Money?! What kind of man do I look like?” he had a horrified look on his face and Harley shook her head.

“I thought I had taught them better than that. But, as usual, Gotham’s finest and its sweet little innocent civilians – like you – are resorting to the most meaningless thing in the world: Money! So I’ve gotta make a comeback, don’t you see? And you… well you’re the start. You’re the beginning – the message that I want to send.”

“The message?”

“Yes,” Joker nodded, “You're finally getting it! The message. So you don’t really want to save your wife. No, no, no. You want to help me send them a message. You want to help me send them the message that there is no hope. None at all. And I’m not giving up. Money will solve absolutely nothing! So I just… need you to understand that your death is nothing personal. It could have been anyone. In fact, you should feel honored. So… just make this easy on everyone and… try to be still.”

“W-what? No!” the man started to scream but Harley covered his mouth and urged him to hush. He tried with all his might to overpower the woman clutching him, but to no avail. She was stronger than she looked.

“Don’t be scared,” Harley whispered, “Mistah J is gentle.” She looked up blankly into nothingness, reminiscing on something unknown. “…Or maybe not…” she added.

“Now,” Joker said, coming back. He nodded to Harley and she moved away. Her hands firmly grasped Mr. Jones’ waist as Joker prepared to kill him. He placed the knife carefully, almost lovingly into the man’s mouth and smiled at the blade like a father would smile at their child who had finally learned to do something on their own.

The man fired off a series of fast remarks and threats. Joker simply laughed. “You are like me, I can tell. Not in resemblance of course… I think I’m far more attractive… ha-ha. But there is one thing… one thing you’re missing. Do you want to know the difference between me and you? Hm?”

He was greeted by silence, which Joker took as an invite to tell him. “Just one bad day!” he smacked his lips and held up his pointer finger as if he were talking to a small child. Joker paused, watching the helpless and somewhat meaningless man give up hope. It made things boring when the victim gave up the will to fight.

“Oh and just one more little thing. Don’t worry about your wife. I’ll take care of her.” He winked at Mr. Jones, who did not even have the time to scream or protest before he had been killed.

Joker let his limp body drop to the ground as he cleaned off his blade with the now deceased man’s jacket. Joker smiled down at his work and carved a deeper smile into the man’s face. “Makeup?” he asked. Harley pulled three, small containers and handed them to Joker, who applied it lovingly onto the man’s skin. He pulled a card out from his pocket, tucked it neatly into the man’s shirt and stood up.

“Mistah J, is that really all it takes to be like you? One bad day? I would have guessed more like two.”

“No,” he replied with a smile, “If I had had that many bad days, I’d be like you.” He giggled at his own joke, completely disregarding Harley, who still had yet to comprehend that he had insulted her.

“Mistah J, where we gonna go next?”

“Gotham High,” he answered shortly.

“Why, whose gonna be there?”

He produced a ragged looking poster with shoe prints on it and pointed to the man running for mayor.

“What’s he got to do with any of this?”

Joker didn’t answer. He took large strides forward, ignoring her questions and pleas until she finally grew quiet. He was thinking about his next move. Shaking his hands off, he stretched and stared at all the buildings. Many were dark, silent, sleeping. A smirk formed; and it soon turned into a huge grin. With distaste, he looked further, to where he knew the homes inhabited by citizens were. Joker could just make out the city lights in the distance when the rain started to pour down. Large drops hit him unmercifully, making his vision hazy. And as he tilted his head in a certain manner, it almost made it appear as if everything in Gotham City had been plunged into a total and complete darkness.