20110821

Blind Ch 2

Everything seemed to stop- the passengers, the noise, the time. The only things in the world were those two tiny oceans. His breathing stopped, he was drowning! He knew he needed to leave, but his feet refused to move. He was caught in this angel’s unwavering gaze- piercing through his very skin, making his hair stand on end and causing a prickling feeling to crawl over his skin. He had to turn away, walk away, RUN AWAY, but he couldn’t bear to lose sight of those eyes. He was prepared to stand there for eternity.

The train whistle shrieking in his ears jarred his concentration. Joker blinked and looked around nervously, had anyone seen him standing there for what had surely been hours? A glance at his watch told him it had been a few seconds. He let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding.

He sneaked a look in the direction of Bruce and the old man. They were nowhere in site, they had probably moved on. Why wouldn’t they? Nothing had happened out of the ordinary for the train station.

Joker felt his eyebrows come together in frustration, his mouth turning down in defeat. He had been so close. Now what was he going to do? He put a hand over his eyes, feeling tired and irritated. He breathed slowly, forcing himself to calm down.

A second whistle caused his head to snap up. The train was leaving!

Those eyes!!

In a flash of panic, the Joker bolted for one of the doors as the train began to move. Grabbing the handrail, he heaved himself up. With one last glance backwards, he saw Bruce’s gaze sweeping the crowd.

Next time, Brucey, I’ve got more important things to do, he thought, opening the train door.

Pulling his conductor’s hat down, he walked briskly through the car, looking for the supernatural being that had turned his world upside down in an instant. (You didn’t think he had made such a great plan and went without a great disguise too, did you?)

She wasn’t in the car he had boarded, so he exited, tossing the conductor’s hat and jacket and pulling on a newsboy cap from his pocket before entering the next.

This car was empty- save for a single seat near the front of the car. That seat held the goddess with crystal eyes, still staring out the window. He didn’t know what to do; he was almost to her!

He would stop, he would turn around and sit in the back, he would forget the whole thing- but his feet would not heed his angry mental commands to HALT! His breath became shallow as he became more and more nervous, what was wrong with him??

Before he knew it, he was right next to her. She didn’t stir, though he was positive that his heart was a thundering drum, his breathing a screeching chorus of violins. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sounds emerged. He tried to swallow, but all he got was the feeling of rusty nails scratching their way down his throat.

He took a deep breath, and the words came out in a whoosh of air- “Is this seat taken?”

He snapped his mouth shut in surprise. He had never heard his voice so small, so scared. The girl turned to face forward. She ran a hand along the seat, as if to dust it off.

“It seems not. Go ahead and sit,” she said, facing the window once more.

Joker sat down slowly. He couldn’t believe it. Her voice was as beautiful as her eyes. He wanted to talk to her, to make her address him again, to hear the sound of heavenly choirs again. He was so nervous he thought he was going to be sick. The silence was pushing down on him like a boulder as he sunk into the chair. He wondered where this train was going, where she would get off, where he would go when she finally did leave the space next to him.

“Are you alright?”
The voice caught him by surprise.

“What?” he choked out.
“You were mumbling,” she said without turning from the window, “Are you alright?”
“Oh, uh, yeah. I’m fine.” Joker sunk deeper into his seat, feeling embarrassed. Embarrassed???

What is going on with me?!? Keep it together!!! You’re the Joker, the Clown Prince of Crime, the Ace of Knaves, the Architect of Anarchy!!!!!!!!
His mental beat down only made him sink down further. She must think him strange, scary, crazy. He snuck a glance at her, hoping she was still looking out the window.

Her light brown hair tumbled down her shoulders in curls, her worn jacket reflecting the gray of the Gotham sky. The shirt underneath was a pale red, the color of his own marred lips, long stained from his daily theatrical get-up. She smelled so good, like cherry blossoms and oranges, with a hint of.....something wonderful. Something he wanted more of.

His breathing stopped as he realized that he had leaned in rather close to the girl.  He silently gave thanks that there was no one else in the train car, and that the girl seemed to be too lost in the scenery outside to notice. He went back to being sunk in his seat, watching her like a hawk out of the corners of his eyes. As he watched, her hand moved to tuck a few strands behind her ear, causing the bracelet on her slender wrist to jingle slightly and catch the light.

“What is that?” Joker asked before he could stop himself as she laid her arm on the armrest between them. The girl turned her head slightly, her eyebrows pushing together slightly in a confused look.

“On your wrist,” he said. He tapped her arm lightly, as if a single breath would cause it to shatter.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, a smile spreading over her lips, “My father gave it to me.” She pulled her sleeve up a little to reveal the delicate chain of shining silver.

Slowly, she spun it until a little rectangle charm was facing the Joker. The image on it made his breath get caught up in his lungs, made him grip the bottom of his seat as if he were holding on for dear life, made him still as a statue- it was a tiny replica of a joker card from a deck of cards. Surely this was the universe’s idea of irony, of a joke, of karma??? He had to be dreaming.

“My father gave me this before he died. He loved to do card tricks for me when I was a girl, even though he was very bad at them,” she laughed, “He used decks full of joker cards instead of a normal deck, so he would be able to guess the right card every time. I always pretended not to know his secret.” Her smile widened at the memories. “When I was sixteen, he taught me all his magic and I pretended to be very surprised to learn the big secret. He had this charm made so that I would know he was always with me.”

Joker had been staring at the bracelet. Now he raised his eyes to look at the girl’s face. She ran a finger over the little card without looking at it. In fact, she seemed to not be looking at anything at all. He lifted his own face so that it was at the level of hers and looked straight at her. At such close proximity, Joker saw that the sapphires she claimed to be eyes were lightly clouded, unwavering, blank almost. The realization hit him like a fifty pound bag of nails; this beautiful creature was blind.

The train whistle struck his brain for the third time in the day. A voice boomed over the loudspeakers, “South 8th Station.”

“This is my stop,” the girl said. Joker stood to let her by. She felt her way along the seats ahead as she moved past him, her scent wrapping around him like a parting embrace. She paused by the door in the aisle, turning back to speak once more- “What’s your name?”

My NAME??? Joker felt his face get pale [well, paler than it already was] as he scrambled for an acceptable answer. He couldn’t tell this angel that she was in the presence of Gotham’s dirtiest scum!!!! It wasn’t like he had never used an alias before, why couldn’t he think of any of them?!?!?

As his brain struggled desperately to work properly, his mouth moved involuntarily to give her what she sought; “Jack.”
The girl smiled brightly, “Well, Jack, perhaps we’ll meet again.”

And with that, she was gone.

Joker stood there, torn between following her or staying on the train and going to his own hide-out. He watched out the window as a porter helped her down the stairs and onto the platform.

She greeted him in a friendly manner, then set off without help, without fear. A few passengers departed, but none entered the car that he now had to himself.

The train began to move again as he sat slowly, unsure of everything that had happened. Was it a dream? No, it couldn’t be, the seat next to him still smelled divine. He ran the back of his hand over it lightly, feeling the warmth left behind. Pulling the cap off of his head, he ran his fingers through his hair, as if to comb out the confusion and sort through his mixed up feelings, but to no avail. He gave up with a sigh and resigned himself to staring out the window, as she had just minutes earlier.

Joker stayed that way for a long time. The sky shifted from light gray to navy, the only light coming from the dull orange glow of the streetlamps. The train stopped many more times, but the car remained empty.

“East 21st Station.”

Joker rose slowly, shoving his hat back on his head and pulling it low over his eyes. He exited the train and the station without a scene, not even bothering to sneer at the resident bums outside the gates. He slowly walked two blocks to his rented lair, no solid thoughts running through his mind. He hoped almost desperately that they would meet again, and very soon.

He kicked himself for not following her, at least finding out where she lived. Her stop had been in the area just before the Narrows, but that didn’t tell him anything. Her home could be decent or indecent. The thought of that gorgeous creature living in filth made him angry, his fist shooting out to leave a dent in a wall as he passed.

What if she lived with someone? Surely, she couldn’t get around a house on her own…could she? No, clearly she was smart, she was strong. But the possibility of someone with her was reasonable. Was it someone related to her? A sister maybe?  Did she have one of those seeing-eye dogs?

….Or was there a man??

Joker realized he had stopped in front of his own door, muttering and shaking. He unclenched his fists with a deep breath and opened the door, shutting it loudly behind him. The sound reverberated through the dark alley, though no one looked to see the disturbance.

It was a quiet place, a dark place, tucked between the shadows of the big shot buildings and overlooked by anyone looking for it. The flat was just that- flat. He didn’t spend much time there, and he certainly didn’t have company. There was just enough furniture and things to get by.

He wandered to the designated bedroom, a narrow and worn bed in the corner. Opening the closet, he hung the newsboy cap on a hook inside. His closet was filled- several custom made suits in his favorite shades of purple and green, various uniforms, and of course the conformity “every day” garb. He kicked the shoes off and shut the door, turning to flop on the bed with his eyes shut tightly.

For the first time in what seemed like a very long time, he was doing…nothing. His mind entertained no plans for destruction, no plans for chaos and misery, no plans for escape, no new ways to force the Batman out of hiding. Thinking about Batman didn’t even get him riled up. He hadn’t been this still, this undisturbed, this apathetic since his first night in Arkham Asylum.

He remembered that like it was yesterday; Batman had tied him up for Gotham’s swat team, and run off to see about Harvey Dent. That was fine, Joker was content to be “captured” again and hear what happened in the news in the morning. Only, he was expecting to be sent back to a holding cell with the new Commissioner, not to Gotham’s local nuthouse…

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