Flyboy.com
Part 8
Another
Year has gone by. Dick is twenty-four.
“L, U there?”
“Yes. “Sup?”
“SSDD.”
“Tell.”
“Got fired.
“Y????????”
“Complicated. Sucks.”
“Complicated how?”
“Just complicated. Don’t go there.”
“D—U do something bad?”
“No. Drop it. Sucks.”
“Really sorry—now what? Any ideas?”
“Good question. I liked being a cop.”
“U have lot’s of things U can do. Pick 1 or 2.”
“I know. I will. ‘Sup with U?”
“New BF.”
“N?”
“N so far so good.”
“G8T. Not an a-hole.”
“Not yet. Ur love life?”
“Another sucks.”
“D—what? Tell.”
“GF on N off. Hot N cold.”
“U can do better than that.”
“Easy to say—I love her—4 a long time.”
“N her? She love U?”
“Yes/no/maybe.”
“D—U can do better. U’re wonderful. GF is lucky 2 have U.”
“Sure.”
“What’s the prob?”
“She doesn’t believe me.”
“That U love her?”
“Yes.”
“U tell her?”
“Yes. Lots.”
“Low self esteem?”
“Yes, sorta. Yes.”
“U there 4 her?”
“Yes. Always.”
“Don’t B there. Step back, let her see things w/o U. Let her decide.”
“Maybe.”
“B happy about Ur job?”
“I guess.”
“U 2 talking yet?”
“Not really.”
“Poor A.”
“Yes.”
“How’s the new almost bro?”
“Crap—another prob. He’s gone.”
“Gone where?”
“Gone—dead.”
“WHAT?”
“Accident a few months ago. B Blames himself.”
“Christ—should he?”
“My opinion? Yes.”
“U call this SSDD? D—U have NO idea. Can I help?”
“U do. U’re here. U help, L”
* * *
“Master Bruce, it’s been almost a year now and you have to accept what’s
happened. You know that—you’d done everything humanly possible for the boy but
he simply…”
“Simply what, Alfred?”
“He simply wasn’t Dick and no amount of training or costume fittings or hair dye
would make him attain the young master’s impossibly high standards.”
Bruce almost stared the old man down, but failed. Alfred knew him too well.
“Call him, Bruce. If you don’t, I shall.”
Bruce nodded almost imperceptibly and picked up the receiver. “Dick, it’s me. I
was wondering—hoping—that you might be free to join me this evening at the
house…”
* * *
“L, Damnedest thing happened last week.”
“Tell.”
“B N I had a real talk. Face 2 face. 4 hours.”
“N?”
“N we made progress. We talked. I mean really talked. I don’t think we ever did
that before.”
“What did U 2 say?”
“Bottom line, he said that he wants to adopt me, make it legal.”
“This is good!”
“Yes and no. He wants to make it legal—good. He wants to do it when I’m 24. 2
little, 2 late.”
“U said no?”
“I said yes. But it’s still belated and obviously a result of his last try.”
“The kid who died?”
“Yes.”
“But how did the talk go? Civil?”
“Yes. He almost apologized about not adopting me a decade or more
ago—almost.”
“So that’s okay?”
“Yes.”
“But…?”
“But nothing. It’s okay.”
“BS, D, but if U insist.”
* * *
“I think Dick was pleased this week, Alfred, didn’t you?”
“Yes, sir, I believe he was.”
Bruce looked up from his newspaper. “That sounded half-hearted.”
“Not at all, sir. I think the young man was, indeed, quite happy with your
decision.” He removed the empty coffee cup from the side table. “I do think,
however, that the gesture may have been perceived as being somewhat belated.”
“You think I should have done this before this?”
"I think, sir, now that you ask, that this should have been done as soon as
Master Dick began to feel the void of the loss of John Grayson as a guiding
force in his life. You did guide the boy, yes, but you always made it clear that
you had no intention of replacing his real father. The void has remained all
these years because of that.”
“But he knows my reason for that; I didn’t want him to think I was trying to
take Grayson’s place—and I wasn’t. I’m still not.”
“Of course. And while Dick always understood that, unfortunately, the fact
remains that he was forced to grow up and mature without having a father because
of that decision.”
“But he had me as a father-figure, Alfred.”
“Need I point out it’s not the same thing?”
* * *
“So, all’s better?”
“I guess…and I was offered my BPD job back yesterday.”
“G8T! When do U start?”
“I don’t. Other stuff going on and I think I’m past that now.”
“Been there, done that?”
“Yes, pretty much. What about U? U okay, Lisa?”
“Yes, I’m good. Like my job, no BF, but that’s okay, 2.”
“Good.”
“D—what’s bothering you? Talk 2 me.”
“Nothing—it’s all good.”
“BS. Tell me.”
“…”
“D?”
“…”
“D, c’mon.”
“2 little, 2 late.”
“With B?’
“Of course with B.”
“SSDD. 2L2L.”
“He loves U. U know that.”
“That’s not always enough.”
“FRIGGING TALK 2 HIM, A-HOLE—WHAT R U? 4?”
“…”
D?”
“…”
Flyboy is not logged on.
* * *
Another year goes by. Dick is twenty-five. Present day.
“U N B okay today?”
“We’ve been okay for a while. N U?”
“Good. The BF proposed last nite.”
“And…?”
“N I told him I like him—love him—but don’t need to get married. This is good 4
me.”
“N he said?”
“He said okay 4 now. It’s kewl, we’re solid. Tell me more about U N B.”
“It’s okay—we finally talked about 6 months ago.”
“N?”
“N it’s okay. He explained Y he put off the adoption, which I knew anyway. He
even said he regretted not doing it years ago and that if he had, the other kid
would probably never have been brought in2 the house.”
“Wow.”
“N he has another kid now, but its okay—good kid. I like this one.”
“This sounds like A is behind it.”
“Of course. A is behind everything.”
“N U’r okay with that?”
“L, A can do anything, anytime. He’s A, he’s awesome.”
U sound like U’re feeling good for a change…I like it.”
“Thanx, me, 2. Things are good. I’m good.”
“Happy, D?”
“Pretty much, yes. L, really—things R good.”
“Well, okay—have dinner with the BF. L8R.”
“L8R, L.”
* * *
Ten minutes later.
“B—get off my fucking computer. You’ve been reading my e-mail and IM’s for a
damn decade, I’m tired of it and big daddy—it’s a two way street. FYI.”
6/8/08
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