Night Is Gotham

I took a bit of pasta for myself as Mark and my father started talking about some slew of robberies that had started to make headlines as the death toll reached double digits.
“Their plan of attack is odd, they take one hostage from the previous bank and kill everyone else. Then they drop the hostage off at the next bank with a riddle, this riddle is the cure to whatever is ailing the hostage. If they don’t figure it out in time then the hostage dies” Mark explained, picking at the last bits of food on his plate. He was absentmindedly dragging his fork around his plate, thinking about this new string of crimes.
“But there are two riddles, the first one is for the cure of the hostage. The second is a hint to the next robbery, but the riddles are so complex you can only solve one and you need to solve one before you can solve the other. That’s why the hostages keep dying, it’s almost impossible to solve” my father stated. He was also deeply fascinated by the nature of these crimes.
“Sounds like the Riddler” I joked, tossing in the name of a past criminal who dealt solely in complicated riddles.
“This conversation didn’t involve you Evelyn, I’ll address you when you can speak” my father snapped. I just looked down at my plate and kept quite.

The meal was wrapping up; we were all full by now. I sat quietly while Mark and my father discussed business and events in the city. I hadn’t been to the city in quite some time. I watched the news every so often but it was the same thing every time I turned it on. They would pan over some car crash or a scene of police in a stand off with some unknown villain. Crime was high in Gotham; it was a daily occurrence so it was no longer interesting or new to me. On a rare occasion I would catch a story about the Joker, an infamous lunatic with a face caked in paint and a hunger for destruction. He seemed to be the only one from the past of infamous criminals that was still making appearances on the news. Then there was the Batman. I would hear interviews with people about how he had saved them or of how he was a hero, a knight. He was more of an entity than a person, a blurry picture in a newspaper or a faint silhouette on the news. I didn’t know what I thought about him though. If he was such an amazing hero, why did most of Gotham hate him?

I remember as a child being fascinated by the Batman. Back when there were more infamous villains running amok and reeking havoc. The Joker was still the worst of them all, for some reason he stuck out most prevalent to me. It was the smile; his wide grin always appeared in my nightmares. I never understood why though, I’ve never come into contact with him. The crime when I was younger was much greater, much worse. My mother would beg my father to stay home some nights, begging to leave Gotham, to go somewhere else and start over. Those were the only times they argued.

They loved each other. I knew by the way they looked at each other. At one point he loved me too, my father did. He used to run around outside with me and play tag and catch. On weekends we would all eat breakfast together and we would play board games on rainy days. I try to hold onto those days when things get dark around here, try to hold onto some hope that he’ll come back and love me again. My mother told me to always care for him and to take care of him even when things were hard.
“He has a lot on his plate, a lot more than you know” she would say. She knew something about him that I didn’t know, but I guess that’s how all marriages work. You know everything about that person, all of their secrets. So I promised her that no matter what I would love him and try my best to help him. She probably hadn’t predicted this future though.

“So Evelyn, why didn’t you tell me Mark was stopping by early before dinner?” my father asked snapping me back into reality. I just looked from him to Mark and back at my father.
“He told me you gave him a key I just assumed-“ I started.
“Well you should have told me, that would have been the responsible thing to do, but clearly you’ve been lacking in judgment lately” he said cutting me off. Mark looked uncomfortable, his eyes darting from me to his boss and back to me. He looked like he wanted to say something but didn’t know what.
“I didn’t really know he was coming, I had been asleep when he came in and-“ again I was cut off.
“So you fell asleep and when you woke up a stranger was in your house and you didn’t think to call me?” he asked raising a brow.
“He’s not a stranger” I retorted. I looked at Mark as if for help but I don’t think he really knew what to do.
“Mr. Wayne it’s my fault I should have called before I came” Mark said trying to defend me. He looked at my father for sympathy but knew there was none.
“Mark you shouldn’t defend her, she’s 21 years old she should know how to be responsible. Falling asleep in the middle of the day when there are things that need to be done, that seems very responsible” he practically spat.
“I am responsible, I made dinner and had everything ready when you got home” I could feel my voice strain as tears started to choke me. I couldn’t cry though, that would make things worse.

He paused for a moment, taking a sip of his wine and looking at me over the rim of the glass.
“If you’re so responsible why did you let someone into my office, you know you’re not supposed to go in there, yet you did anyway. And what’s more you let someone else in there, someone else was left to rummage through my things” he started out calm, unsettling calm.
“He needed a binder he knew was in your office, he was going into your office before I even had a chance to stop him, I just-“ cut off again.
“If you are not responsible enough to be left at home by yourself at the age of 21 without breaking any rules that have been set then we should get you a sitter!” he yelled slamming his hands on the table. He had lost his cool, snapped right here in front of Mark. I could feel my face heating up and the tears start to well in my eyes. I tried to discreetly brush them away but it was no use. I pushed myself away from the table and as calmly as I could, asked to be excused.
“You can be excused when I say dinner is over, it’s rude to walk out on guests,” my father simply stated, motioning for me to sit back down.
“I apologize Mark, for raising my voice like that. I simply lost my temper,” he said looking at Mark. I didn’t move my eyes from my plate, I was embarrassed and felt I could cry at any moment. I felt a foot on my leg and looked up quickly to see Mark looking at me. I just turned my head away and looked at the floor. He had made me look like a child, an irresponsible child in front of Mark. Someone incapable of being on their own.

“Mr. Wayne as much as I would like to stay and talk more about the positives of the proposed merge I actually need to get going. I have some paper work I need to do before tomorrow that I left to the last minute. Very irresponsible of me really, thank you for having me for dinner” Mark said, breaking the unbearable silence.
“That’s quite alright Mark, I’ll see you to the door. Evelyn why don’t you clean up and try to redeem yourself” Bruce said getting up and walking with Mark to the front door. I watched as they both exited the kitchen and walked down the hallway, I sat for a minute in my chair trying to compose myself. I heard fast footsteps coming back toward the kitchen and jumped from my chair, not wanting my father to yell at me for wasting time.

It was Mark.

“Hey I told your dad I left something on the table, are you ok?” he asked, standing a little too close to me. I nodded, backing away just a bit. He inched closer to me and gently put his hands on my shoulders.
“Don’t lie to me,” he said sternly.
“Mark really I’m fine, he’s just being a father. He lost his temper like he said, it’s nothing, honest” I lied. Mark knew I was lying, I could tell in the way he looked at me. He just sort of stood close to me, holding my shoulders, studying my face.
“You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?” he asked. I pulled away from him and went to picking up the plates. Being that close to him and lying to his face was uncomfortable to say the least.
“Of course Mark, I promise” I lied again.

“Mark what’s taking you so long?” Bruce yelled from the front door.
“Sorry, it was hidden under one of the napkins” he yelled rushing off down the hallway. I just kept picking up plates and glasses. I wanted to put all of this into the dishwasher before Bruce came back. It wouldn’t be that hard, there had only been three of us.

I could hear them talking but it wasn’t clear enough for me to make out what they were saying.