Visiting Hours

Part Two

 

Two Years Served

“Hi, Kid. How’s it goin’?”

“Okay, Mr. Gadolfalo; how are you doing, everything okay?”

“Yeah, sure. Y’know, it’s all the same here, every day, no change, business as usual.”

The boy laughed at that; they both knew that business as usual for Gadolfalo involved running his crime organization from inside his cell. Every time his lawyer showed up, whenever one of his ‘associates’ stopped in there was another set or orders going out and no one, not the warden or the judge stopped it. Robin didn’t like it but he knew people were being paid off and it was all part of the corruption that Batman ad Jim Gordon were doing their damnedest to stop.

Robin had been come to visit Gadofalo about three to four times a year and over that time they’d developed an understanding with one another. There were certain things they never brought up, never discussed; things like how many people the Boss was responsible for disappearing, anything involving his ‘job’ (unless he brought it up first) and what contact he had with the outside. On the other hand, they did spend time talking about the books Robin would bring and how John felt about his lawyers who hadn’t managed to get him sprung yet, how Rob was doing in school, his social life and, increasingly, his hopes and plans for the future. They almost never talked about the Boss’s family.

And the Bat; they never went there.

“How come you never ask me about him? I can tell you’re curious but you never say anything about Batman or how I started working with him or any of that.”

“Hell, you get asked that garbage enough with all the reporters you have to talk to. I figured that if you wanted to say something you would.”

“You wonder though, don’t you?” Robin was teasing the man, which was one of the things Gadolfalo liked about the kid, the fact that he wasn’t afraid of him and treated him like a regular guy. The kid had balls and that was no lie.

“Why, you wanna talk about him? You wanna talk, I’ll listen. You don’t want to, we can talk about football.” Robin didn’t say anything so something must have happened. “Okay, what’s going on? He hasn’t hit you or anything like that, has he?”

“No, it’s fine.”

“He ever try to—you know, he ever try any funny stuff?”

“Him? C’mon, I told you it’s not like that, never has been, never will be. We both like girls too much. Did you see the game yesterday?”

No problem, the kid didn’t want to talk about something, they wouldn’t talk about it. “The Knights suck; how the hell do you blow a fourteen point lead with two minutes to go in the fourth? Jesus.”

“Yeah, it was pretty impressive.”

“’Cost me three grand.” A beat. “Okay, what did he do?” Screw this, the kid was upset and he didn’t like that; he was a good kid, he deserved to be treated the way he should be treated. There weren’t many kids who’d go out of their way to visit an prison inmate they weren’t even related to; God knew his own kids never set foot in the place—of course, that was probably not a bad thing.

Robin half shrugged and half shook his head in frustration. “He’s really getting on my case about college, wants me to take a prep course for the SAT’s and start narrowing down my choices about where I want to apply.”

“’Sounds like he’s concerned, kid, like he cares. ‘You rather he ignored the whole thing?”

“No, but…he won’t drop it.”

“Pressure, huh?” The Boss rubbed his jaw; kids—they didn’t get it. He should be so lucky to have a kid who was smart and wanted to do stuff, who had choices and got off his butt without someone forcing it. Now his Frankie—there was a kid who needed a good boot in the ass, not like this kid. Frankie would be happy to have the world handed to him on a damn silver platter and if it were he’d find a way to screw it up. It was his mother; she spoiled the kid, spoiled him rotten.

“The thing is I’m not sure I even want to go to college. I mean, no one in my family ever went and they did just fine. C’mon, it’s not like I’m never going to get a job if I don’t have a degree, right? Did you go to college, Mr. Gadolfalo?”

“Me? You’re kidding, right? But you know something; maybe if I had I wouldn’t be sittin’ here. Maybe I’d have done something else. Maybe I’d be sittin’ on the other side of the glass looking in instead of inside looking out.”

“But I always got the feeling that you liked what you do. I mean, you’re good at it, you’re in charge, you have a lot of people who do what you tell them, they respect you. You’re sort of like a CEO; power, money, perks. You seem like you’re into it, aside from the prison term and stuff.”

“Yeah, well a prison term is a pretty big downturn in business.”

“But you’re going to get out and then it’ll be back to work, right?” The silence was instant and awkward. In act business was going along just fine, even if he was in a cell. “Oh hell, sorry. I didn’t mean to go there. Really, I’m sorry.”

“’S’okay. It’s what it is.” John let it roll off his back. “So where does he want you to go to school?”

“Someplace conservative, someplace where I can blend in, still work as Robin but ace classes and pretend I’m a normal student.”

“No one would call you a normal kid, kid. I mean, just take a look at you—fifteen—sorry, sixteen and sittin’ here talkin’ to me. And you told me you’re on the honor roll at your school, I saw you do some acrobatics on TV a couple a’ years ago—you’re pretty good. You’re not a normal kid and you know that, right, Robin?” John saw the look on the kid’s face, there was more to it than just this. Something was really bothering him and this was just the tip of the iceberg. “’Sounds to me a lot like what you’re doin’ now. ‘That the problem, more of the same?”

A single head shake. “There’s more but I can’t talk about it, it’s—you’d know too much about my personal life.” He saw the suspicion in the older man’s face. “No, nothing like that; really, he’s not after my ass, drop that, okay? You’ve really got a hang up about that, y’know.”

“Yeah, whatever. You wanna know what I think, right, or you wouldn’t be here talkin’ to me.” Another reluctant head nod from the kid. “Okay, look. It’s not that complicated to me. He wants you to go to college, ‘doesn’t sound like a bad idea but you don’t want to. So, here’s what you do; you go, pick a place you think may be okay. Go; try it for a year or whatever. Maybe it won’t be bad; you may even like it. If you don’t, if it’s no good, leave.”

“Yeah, but I don’t quit things. I never have and…”

“This wouldn’t be quittin’. This would be giving it a shot and then makin’ up your mind after checkin’ it out. And you’re right. This isn’t up your alley; you can always do somethin’ else, right? You’re a cop, you can go be a cop full time.” Gadolfalo smiled. “It wouldn’t be my choice, but if that’s what works for you, what the hell.”

“What would you say if your son asked you the same question, the same thing?”

“About bein’ a cop? I’d ask him to consider another line of work, but that’s just me, okay?” It was a joke. “Okay, look, I know his mother wants him to go to college, get a good education and get away from the family business and, between you me and the fence post—I’m on her side. This, what I do—what you do—is too dangerous, people get hurt, get killed and no mother wants her son to have to face that, wants to wait for the damn phone to ring.” The Boss rubbed his jaw again thinking. “You asked your mother what she wants?”

For one of the few times in his life Robin answered without thinking and that made a statement about how upset he was about the whole college thing. “She’s dead, both of my parents are dead, since I was eight.” He realized what he said. Shit. “But I think she would have wanted me to go, if that was what I wanted. She just wanted me to be happy, she was my mother, y’know?”

“So you think this may make you happy?”

“I don’t know, maybe.”

“But maybe not? I’m telling you and I never met the lady, but I’m saying that she wanted you to do what you want, not what everyone’s telling you. That’s what mothers want for their kids. But you know that, right? You’re a smart kid, you got a good head on your shoulders, everyone knows that and yeah, you could go out and get a job tomorrow but you ain’t gonna get another chance to be a kid, if you hear what I’m sayin’ to you. You throw this away and you’ll never know if it could have worked out.”

“Yeah, but…” The guard came in, time was up.

“Do what you think’s best kid, that’s what I say. Screw everybody; it’s your life. Hey, and next time see if you can get me something about this jerk Bernie Madoff, okay?”

Robin gave him a searching look. “You lose money with him?”

“Not as much as he’s gonna lose. Now get outta here, see ‘ya in the funny papers.”

“Another thing; if you hear anything about my kid Frankie, you let me know, right?”

“What kind of things?”

“Frankie’s not—he’s havin’ a hard time with me bein’ in here. His mother’s worried about him, ‘thinks he may be getting’ into some things he shouldn’t be. You know—kids.”

 

* * *
 

“He’s at the prison again? I thought he was done with that.”

“Need I remind you that he told you exactly where he’d be while you were both at breakfast this morning, Master Bruce?”

“He didn’t say anything to me this morning.”

“…Perhaps if you removed your nose from the Wall Street journal and listened to the boy you would know what’s going on his life.” Alfred ignored the glare.

“And why is he still talking to Gadolfalo? We weren’t even working that case, has he mentioned anything to you about these visits?”

“I haven’t asked, no, but he has told me that he finds the man fascinating and much more intelligent than he’s generally given credit for.”

“Well, I suppose there’s no harm in it. Do you know if he’s signed up for that prep course I spoke to him about?”

“Indeed he did, sir. He appeared to barely contain his excitement.”

 

* * *
 

John Gadolfalo finished the last page of the new book Robin brought him last week. He was a good kid; smart, a hard worker and nice. He was a nice kid and that was important. In some ways he liked the kid more than he liked his own son and was startled by the realization. He loved his son, all his kids. He loved them more than just about anything in his life aside from his wife but this was different. He liked Robin, enjoyed spending time with him, liked to hear what he had to say, liked the way he was who he was—he was Robin f’the love of God—but he still blushed when asked if he had a girlfriend. And the kid was thoughtful, considerate, didn’t think he was a low-life or scum because of how he made his living. He didn’t judge, there weren’t too many people he could say that about.

Yeah, he should go to college ‘cause he was so smart but he could see how the kid would be bored there.

And that thing about his parents being dead. They both died at the same time when he was about eight, he said. He was sixteen now so eight years ago; that was probably what led him to crime fighting. It only made sense.

That was just wrong, a kid like that being left on his own. It wasn’t right.

He’d have to give this some thought.
 

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