Autobiography

Chapter 5

So I didn’t see Clark again for almost a month and—okay, I admit it—a large reason was that I was getting tired of talking about myself. Don’t get me wrong; I’ve been interviewed all my life and that’s no big deal in and of itself. It’s just that Clark knows me, knows me too well and asks questions I’d rather not answer and a simple ‘no comment’ doesn’t fly with him so, yeah, I was avoiding him. Finally, after a few dozen calls and e-mails, I sucked it up and we met at the house, sat by the pool, had a few beers and finished this thing. Besides, I like him, respect him too much to chance him being seriously disappointed with me, so here we go:

Clark Kent: Thanks for agreeing to this, you okay?

Nightwing: Sure, sorry I kept you waiting. Let’s do this thing. ‘Get it over with, c’mon Clark, ‘wrap it up.

CK: We left off with me asking you where you see yourself in five years, ten, twenty…thoughts?

NW: Tons, Clark. I’m still twenty-two, so I know I have a lot of options but, in a perfect world I guess…I suppose that in five years I’ll still be pretty much doing what I am now. I’m a cop in Bludhaven and that lets me get in on the ground level with a lot of cases. I can help on a more human level and I like that. I like being able to talk to gang members, maybe get them to not use violence, not use drugs—at least not as often. And I still fly at night. That’s pretty much second nature to me now and it’s part of me. I guess, I think I’m arrogant enough to think that I’m…okay…at it. I seem to be able to make a difference both in and out of costume and that’s the point of what we do, y’know?

CK: In ten years?

NW: I’ll be in my early thirties. With any luck I’ll still be healthy enough to function, still do a lot of the same things. I’d think, I mean, I hope that I’ll have moved past being a cop on the beat. I don’t mean to knock that, not at all, but I can do more with the bigger crimes if I move up in the force, ‘just being practical here. In spandex? I’m not sure. I should still be pretty much at my physical peak then, assuming I don’t have any major injuries—and that’s a big assumption.

CK: I know you’ve been injured a number of times. ‘Anything that you think might become a long range problem for you?

NW: Nothing really. Maybe—I don’t know but maybe…I’ve had a few concussions and a skull fracture. Sometimes I’m afraid that I might end up with Parkinson’s or something like that. ‘Nothing yet, but, yeah, it’s in the back of my mind. God—it scares the hell out of me. ‘Never admit it, but yeah. Have you ever seen pictures of Ali when he was sick—I mean after all the pounding he took in the ring? He shook, he shook all the time; his hands shook and his body was stiff like he was afraid that if he moved fast he’d fall over. I have nightmares about that sometimes because I know it could happen to me. Being physical, being an athlete is important to me—knowing that my body responds and does what I want it to, knowing I’m in control is a big part of what I am and I’d hate to lose that, ‘hate to be dependant. I don’t know if I could stand that, I really don’t know if I could.

CK: Have you ever been checked?

NW: Sure. ‘So far, so good. It still scares me. A lot.

CK: What about personally; I mean in around ten years, where would you like to be?

NW: Like getting married, that kind of personal?

CK: Whatever you term ‘personal’, yes.

NW: I’m not sure. Part of me really wants that—marriage, a home, kids—the whole thing but—I don’t know.

CK: What don’t you know?

NW: If it’s in the cards for me.

CK: Because?

NW: Because this isn’t an easy life, you know that, Clark. No one—okay, almost no one I know in the business has managed to make it work, at least not for the long haul. You know that, Clark, c’mon. ‘Divorce, separation, death. Shit happens; especially when you’re getting shot at, tied up, tortured, dealing with the criminally insane, terrorists, organized crime. It happens more often than it doesn’t; the odds are against us.

CK: Are you afraid of not finding a woman who can put up with the double stress of being with a policeman and a vigilante? Or are you saying that you don’t know if you could deal with having the responsibility of knowing that something could happen to a wife or children? It’s a conventional wisdom that the dependants and family of a hero become potential targets. Is that what may be holding you back? Jesus, Clark—what the hell do you think? I’ve seen the security you have Lois hiding behind when she’s in your apartment and the tracking devices and all you’ve got her tied to. ‘Worry much?

NW: Of course that’s a concern, Clark—hell, yeah. And sure, I grew up in the world—I listened to the same songs and saw the same movies and read the same books everyone does. We all want to find someone to love who loves us back but it’s not easy, is it? I mean, I like people but there aren’t too many I can stand for more than the length of a dinner, let alone for decades. And kids—I like kids, I really like them but I’m not sure I’d be a good father.

CK: Why not? I’ve known you for years and, frankly I think you’d be a great parent, terrific.

NW: But—it’s just that, I mean…I could get hurt, killed pretty easily. I went through it, losing parents. I don’t know if I could do that to a kid. That sounds melodramatic but I do think about it. I don’t want to leave a widow and I don’t want another kid to grow up without a father.

CK: How long have you thought this?

NW: C’mon, Clark—you’re not a shrink okay? It’s a concern; I’d be an idiot not to know the realities I live with.

CK: Have you ever talked about this with Batman or the Titans? Do they feel the same or is this just your own feelings? Yeah, like this isn’t the usual topic de jour at the JL satellite, the Tower and wherever else.

NK: Batman hasn’t ever been married and his last long-term relationship ended a few years ago. Speedy is a single parent and the kid’s mother is in jail. Troia is a widow who’s lost her ex, her son and her stepdaughter. Tempest’s marriage was in trouble and now he’s separated and doesn’t have custody of his son. Aquaman is divorced and his son was killed…you want me to go on? What we do isn’t easy to live with. Because it’s too easy to die with.

CK: Well, yes, just the career you’ve chosen has obvious dangers that are inherent, but…

NW: And I don’t have the right to inflict those dangers on a wife or any kids I may end up being responsible for. It’s irresponsible, immoral, if you want to put it on that level.

CK: I’m not trying to get into a debate, but aren’t you rationalizing your decisions here?

At this point Clark was starting to really piss me off. It was like he was trying to convince me that I could have it all and he was pushing too hard; the rose covered cottage, the perfect wife and a couple of kids along with a dog lying in front of fire waiting to bring me my slippers after a long day. It’s not like that—it can’t be and it never really was. That’s a fantasy and anyone who doesn’t understand that probably believes in Santa Claus and the Easter bunny. The reality of my life is that I deal with criminals and major bad guys every day who would consider my death a gold star and a feather in their caps. I have more than one price on my head—and I accept that as part of my job and a measure of how well I do it. But I don’t have any right to impose that danger or that life on anyone, especially kids. I don’t. Period. And—Jesus—if I did ever go down that road, got married, became a father and something happened to them because of me—how the fuck am I supposed to live with that?

Haley’s burned down because of me. The apartment house I lived in blew up and how many people were killed?

On my head, all of that, all those deaths are on my head. I can’t add to it. I flat out can’t.

An hour or two went by while I cooled off before we resumed the interview.

CK: Nightwing, I’m sorry. You’re right, of course, you are in a dangerous position and your concerns about your family and friends are reasonable. But, if I may—my position was more to wonder how you, or anyone, could do this and not have the refuge or security of some kind of emotional backup that a wife, for instance, would give you.

NW: That’s okay, I knew what you were getting at. It’s just that it’s sort of a sore point for me. I do want all of that but I really just don’t know how I could ever make it work. It’s frustrating sometimes.

CK: But do you think you could continue this for another ten or more years without that kind of support?

NW: I honestly don’t know. I’ve seen what it’s done to some of my friends to be out there fighting then go home to a cat or a TV dinner and I know I don’t want to be there at the end of the day. I just—I don’t know.

CK: All right, let’s say, for the sake of argument, that a few years from now you decide that you’ve had enough of crime-fighting. What do you do? Retire? Get a job? Write your memoirs? Travel?

Dammit, Clark knows me too well.

NW: Five or whatever years from now I’m no longer a vigilante? Y’know, I daydream about that sometimes and I think I’d probably try to bring Haley’s Circus back to what it used to be, maybe try to merge it with Ringling or retool it to a more Cirque de Soleil kind of thing with a twist of some kind. I’d like to do that, fly again.

CK: Seriously?

NW: Absolutely. I think I could make a go of it and I know I’d have a lot of fun.

CK: You’d leave all this to join the circus?

NW: ‘Just coming full circle, Clark, just going home is all it would be. God, I’d love to do that. ‘Not like last time when Haley’s was struggling along on three legs but take the time and spend the money to really do it right with all the bells and whistles a real circus needs—costumes, lights, glitz and sequins. ‘Have really top-drawer acts. Maybe animals, maybe not. People love to see them but I don’t know, I hate to see them caged up the way they have to be but I guess that’s negotiable. Man, that would be great.

CK: Are you happy with your life as it is now?

NW: Pretty much, I am, yes. Not every day, not every minute but who is, right? I’m mostly okay with things the way they are. Sure, there are areas that could use some improvement—a steady woman I love who loves me back would be good but I might get lucky with that sooner or later. Yeah, I’m doing my work, I think I’m pretty good at it most of the time and I’m making a difference.

CK: Do you believe that the hero is necessary?

Christ, Clark—put me on the spot much, why don’t you?

NW: I think they’re more a help than a hindrance, yes.

CK: So you plan to keep doing this for now?

NW: I’ll keep doing this as long as you do, how’s that sound? What kind of an answer do you really want here, Clark? I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow, let along twenty years down the road. No guarantees, no promises. That’s the agreement we go into this with and we all know it, every single one of us knows it and accepts it. You suit up every night and you cross your fingers because you know it’s just a matter of time before you’re in the ER again. If you’re lucky.

I got into this gig because some sleaze murdered my parents for a little money. Bruce knew that catching him was the only way for me to be able to sleep at night and maybe still have some kind of a life. It was supposed to be a one-shot. ‘Catch him, put him away and then go back to fourth grade. That’s what was supposed to happen.

The problem was that fourth grade was boring compared to jumping off rooftops and scoring busts. It was a rush then and it still is but now I see the bigger picture and I know it’s not about me. It’s not about one scared orphan putting a trauma as much to bed as it’s ever going to get. I know it’s about making sure that no other fourth graders have to end up jumping off a building at two in the morning to find some resolution and closure.

It started out about me. Now it’s about everyone else.

So the arrangement was that this thing would never see daylight as long as I’m alive so, well—okay, I guess we all know what that means. You’re reading this, right?

So, here’s the deal; I hope that whatever happened, I went out the way I would have liked. I hope that I accomplished something before I got killed and I hope whatever ended things for me was worth dying for.

And, even if it wasn’t, even if it was just some stupid car accident or a bad case of the flu, that’s okay.

Truth? No regrets that matter and it’s been a hell of a run.

5/5/09

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