“Are you sure you don’t know? I mean, he didn’t say anything to you about where he’d be working?”
“No, Master Dick, I assure you that I am in as much ignorance as you are. He left two days ago in the old jeep to do some errands and I’ve not heard from him since. I’ve also checked and the GPS device has been either disabled or switched off and there is no record of any charges on any of his credit cards, nor has there been any activity in any of his bank accounts from any bank worldwide.” Alfred kept his face calm for the sake of the boy; it had only been two days but this time he was worried about Bruce. Heaven knew it was hardly the first time he’d disappeared for a few days or even a few weeks but since Dick had come to live with them he tended to be a bit more responsible about letting them know where he’d gone and when they could expect his return. They’d hadn’t heard hide nor hair from him since early Monday, this was now late afternoon, Wednesday.
“But maybe we should…”
“Young sir, I’m as certain as you are that he’s absolutely fine. Indeed, if he wasn’t we would have heard; think about it—he would have the Justice League after him if they had the slightest reason to suspect that anything was amiss. Plus, as Bruce Wayne, he has the entire press corps of every civilized nation following his every romantic and economic adventure.” He put the cookies and hot chocolate down on Dick’s desk. The lad was really too old for such things but it always seemed to be his favorite comfort food and something he might subconsciously appreciate. “Now, if you would start on your homework, dinner will be ready in three hours and you know the master’s rules about that. Hop to it, if you would.”
Reluctantly Dick settled in to his history assignment allowing Alfred to get down to the cave and continue his checking into the whereabouts of the master. So far he’d drawn a blank, but he was tenacious and would keep at it until he had the answers he was looking for.
* * *
“You sure you never worked a milking machine before, Bruce? You seem to have a knack for it.”
Bruce smiled, pleased at the unexpected praise. “No, you’re just a good teacher, Tom, that’s all and you know it.”
He looked at Bruce’s hands, soft, no calluses and with the remains of a manicure evident. “You know, I don’t mean to pry but you ever do any thing with them other than pushing a pen?”
“Not much, no. ‘Did office work, mainly.”
“And now you’re here milking cows.” Tom was no idiot, he knew there was a story here but he had the sense to know that when—and if—Bruce decided to talk that was when they’d know it and not before.
“Yes, and enjoying it, too.”
Tom didn’t say anything; there was no reason. Men like Bruce showed up now and again, all of them seemed to have something that they were running away from. Either that or they were looking for something—or someone—they’d lost. They’d come around; some of them wanting work in exchange for room and board or a few dollars. They rarely stayed long though, so Tom figured that it wouldn’t be too long before Bruce moved along as well. There was something different about him; he was smarter than most of the vagrants and he was better educated. His manners indicated that he’d been raised by someone who cared about such things and he had a way about him, calm, deliberate and considered that not too many people have.
Well, with things going the way they were, with jobs disappearing and hard times for a lot of folks it could just be that he was one of the ones who’d lost his job and was trying to find something to do with himself. Maybe he’d had a marriage go bad; he wouldn’t be the first, Lord knows.
The one thing they didn’t get from him was any sense of danger, even George, their old German Sheppard they’d had around the place for years had taken a shine to him and that didn’t happen all that often. ‘George didn’t like you, you were taking your life in your hands to try to walk through the front door and that was the plain truth.
No, they weren’t worried about him sleeping in the spare room. He didn’t ask for anything, did whatever was asked of him without complaint and ate whatever was placed in front of him. He was pleasant enough company, if a little quiet and he was an extra pair of hands they needed.
He had his secrets, that was plain as paint, but then, everyone does, right?
As far as Tom was concerned, he could stay a while.
Later that evening, sitting around the dinner table, Martha brought what was on her mind. “So, Bruce, is there anyone waiting for you to come home?”
“’You trying to tell me I’ve outstayed my welcome, Martha?”
“You can stay as long as you like and you know it—too much work to do on this place for just me and Tom. I’m just wondering if you might want to be calling in or if I should just mind my own business…. I see you making faces at me, Tom.”
“Well…”
“Oh, heavens. ‘Don’t answer if you don’t want to, you’ve just got me curious, that’s all. ‘None of my business, I know. ‘Just wondering, is all.”
Bruce smiled, these were good people. “No wife, my parents are gone and I don’t have any brothers or sisters. I do have a job, but I’m not really needed right now and I’m tired of it anyway. I was thinking of leaving the place, let someone else do it.”
Tom picked up his coffee cup and took a drink, “’That what you meant the day I found you? You said something about just deciding to just get in your car and head out instead of going to work; that about it?”
“Pretty much.”
“Aren’t you afraid of your job not being there when you want to go back?” Martha refilled the cups.
“That’s the thing, I’m not all that sure that I want to go back. I’m tired of it; having to be somewhere at a certain time, tired of people depending on me. You know how it gets, you work for years and then one day you realize that you’re not all that sure it’s what you want to do; you’re getting older and there are a thousand things you’ve never done.”
Tom almost smiled. “Like milking cows?”
Bruce nodded. “Well, yes, among other things.”
In bed, later that night, Martha and Tom talked about their guest. “I think he’s nursing a broken heart. Just look at him, handsome, fancy manners and did you notice that when he got here his nails were manicured? He’s from money, I tell you and he hasn’t said a word about a girlfriend. I think he’s been hurt by some gold digger.”
Sigh of exasperation. “Martha…”
“Well, I’ll bet I’m right.”
“Leave him alone; if he wants to talk about it he will. If he doesn’t, it’s none of our business.”
* * *
The headline of the Daily Planet that Monday read:
‘Batman not seen in three weeks. Gotham crime stats up 34%’
(AP/James Olsen) Questioned last evening, Robin declined to answer questions regarding the disappearance of Batman who hasn’t been seen in almost a month, his last known sighting going back to January twenty-second of this year. There has been a marked and corresponding rise in violent crime in the Gotham area despite the Teen Titans and occasional appearances by both Superman and Wonder Woman helping the GCPD keep things in check. Commissioner Gordon, though also declining to comment on Batman being missing, insisted that things were under control and blamed the increase to normal fluctuations based on weather and school vacations.
* * *
Bruce had seen the paper but didn’t bother to really read the article. All that was a different life, someone else’s life.
Dick had Alfred and was probably doing just fine. Clark and Diana were filling in so the city would be safe enough.
Martha and Tom—the names had almost made him stop dead in his tracks when he first heard them, his parents names. If they weren’t dead, if they hadn’t been killed they’d probably be a lot like these people; kind, compassionate, hardworking. As the weeks went by they became his parents in his mind and he started to believe that this was where he belonged.
Gotham, Dick, Wayne Enterprise…it all faded further away. The only thing that stayed with him was Selina’s death and that remained an open wound.
She should still be alive, taunting him, flirting with him and then deciding to give in to what they both felt for one another. She should have been the one. She was his. They should still be together and one of these days…If he closed his eyes he could see her, smell her perfume, hear her voice, her laugh. At night he dreamed about her. When he was working he felt her beside him.
They would be together.
They would.
Tom became used to hearing Bruce moving around in his room late at night and sometimes would hear him go downstairs and outside, wandering the fields for hours. He assumed that the man was working out his demons, thinking about that girl he’d once mentioned having ‘lost’. Of course that could mean anything; she might have walked out on him, married someone else, decided to take the veil and join a convent, hell, she could even have died if you wanted to get melodramatic about it.
Well, he was bright enough and would get his feet back under himself soon enough.
He and Martha couldn’t help wondering about him, though. He’d just given his name as Bruce Thomas when they’d first asked and thought nothing about it one way or the other. It was a common enough name, and would be the kind that wouldn’t stick in anyone’s mind for long—of course the man would stay in your thoughts, but there you go.
Something happened to knock this boy way back into the wings and that’s all there was to it but everyone loses people—it was just a part of life. You grieve, you come to grips and you move on. That’s the way it was supposed to work.
“Bruce, there anyone at home waiting to hear from you?” Martha would ask him things like this now and then. Tom wished she wouldn’t but that was just the way she was.
“No, they’re fine; they know I’m all right.”
“’You been in touch?”
“If they really want to get a hold of me they can. It there were any problems I’d have heard—don’t worry about me.” He’d stood up, finished his glass of milk and picked up his jacket. “I’ll start on the milking.”
There it was; he did have someone at home waiting for him. It might not be this girl, but someone was there and might be worried about him. Well, he could run as long as he wanted but sooner or later he had to stop and then he’d have to deal with things.
Later that same night they heard his jeep start up and head down the driveway about two in the morning. He was back for breakfast and the early milking but his knuckles were raw and he had a bruise under his left eye.
Going into town for supplies and groceries, Martha heard the latest talk and gossip—Milly finally had that overdue baby, a nice big girl and Jimmy got into some fancy college for next year. There’d been another fistfight, a bad one, over at Mulligan’s Bar and someone tried to steal painkillers from the drugstore but were stopped or scared away by something before they could get away with anything. In fact the police caught them all trussed up like Thanksgiving turkeys in Sam Hastings cornfield an hour later.
That was sort of interesting.
* * *
“Alfred? It’s been almost six weeks; I’m really worried. I want to get the Titans or someone on finding him.”
“…I think that might not be a bad idea, Master Dick.”