All That Jazz

The next morning, I was relieved to see I was alive, and not chained to a bed or something freaky like that.

“Where are you guys going?” I walked downstairs to see The Joker and the guys heading out the door.

“We’re running an errand.” One of the men said from behind his clown mask. I recognize his mask, he’s the guy I kicked in the head last night.

“What kind of errand?” I prodded.

“I’m threatening the mob!” The Joker called as he walked back through the door.

“Really? Can I come?” I really did want to go; I was dying to see The Joker in action. My enthusiasm surprised me, and obviously The Joker too. He looked at me for a moment, as if considering letting me go.

“I want you dressed to kill in five minutes.” He said finally.

“In what dress?” I asked sarcastically.

“The black one.” I stared at him, convinced he was kidding, but his look told me otherwise. I ran up to my ‘room’ and threw open the closet. It was filled wall to wall with gorgeous, designer dresses, each one a different color. A shoe rack hung on the door, full with heels, wedges, flats; all manner of dress shoes. After wading through the sea of fabric, I finally spotted the black dress.

“Wow.” I whistled low. The dress was floor length, and made of silk. The sleeves were poufy at the shoulders and only about three-quarters of an inch long. Four large silver buttons closed the top into a deep V-neck. A slit in the front of the skirt would show off half way up my thighs.

I slipped on the dress over my favorite black sports bra, creating excellent cleavage. I wanted to impress The Joker for some reason. He made me feel like a nervous schoolgirl around her crush, excited and filled with dread at the same time. Rifling through the shoe rack, I found the perfect pair of open-toed strappy black heels.

“Jewelry…” I prayed he’d thought to get me some. I crossed the room to the vanity dresser he’d bought me and started looking through drawers. They were all filled with jewelry. Necklaces, bracelets, earrings, everything had its own drawer. I found black thick-hoop earrings and two black metal bracelets that I slipped onto my right wrist. I also found a black leather choker adorned by a silver flower studded with diamonds. Thankfully, I had some makeup.

“Are you ready yet?” The Joker demanded in a huff as he pounded on the door.

“Do you want me dressed to kill or not?” I yelled back. I heard him growl and stalk off, muttering about women. With a huff, I applied eyeliner and mascara as quickly as I could. I searched for black eye shadow as I fanned my eyelid dry. I applied the black, then accentuated the outer corners of my eyes with silver, finishing with a dash of pink sparkly lipstick and a little pink blush along my cheekbones. Finally, I swept my hair up into a messy bun. With a final glance over, I walked back downstairs into the living room, where The Joker was waiting for me.

“Ta da!” I held out my arms so The Joker could see how I looked.

“Finally, let’s go.” He said happily. “You look beautiful, by the way.” He said huskily into my ear as we walked out to the waiting van. He held the door open for me and grabbed my hand to help me up, then crossed to the driver’s side.

“So where are we going?” I asked as I perched on the passenger seat.

“Gotham.” We crossed the Walt Whitman bridge and headed north up to the inlet. The Joker drove us to the heart of Gotham, into an alley behind a generic-looking Italian restaurant. I looked out the window the whole time; I’d never seen this city before. Besides Vermont, all I’d ever seen was New York City and the Jersey shore.

“This is where the mob is?” I asked skeptically as The Joker helped me out of the van.

“It’s where they’re meeting. Now just for your sake, don’t draw attention to yourself. You’ll get enough just by standing there so let me do the talking, ok?”

“Ok.” I was starting to get nervous.

“Don’t be nervous, dollface. You’ll be fine. I have a better chance of being killed than you do!”

“You find this fun.” I guessed, as he ruffled through his pockets searching for something. He nodded without looking up.

“Just stand there and look gorgeous; it’ll be easy for you. And try not to look scared, ok?”

“I’m not. I trust you to keep me safe.” The Joker smiled at me and he took my hand again, leading me through the back door of the restaurant. Do I really trust him?

As soon as we walked in the back door, a metal detector went off in the dining area. Men were talking loudly, and we barely heard the sounds of something being placed on a table.

“What the hell is this?” a man asked.

“As you are all aware, one of our deposits was stolen. A relatively small amount, sixty-eight million.”

“Who stupid enough to steal from us?” asked a man who sounded Russian.

“Two-bit whack job, wears a cheap purple suit and makeup. He’s not the problem, he’s a nobody. The problem is our money bein’ tracked by the cops.” I recognized the voice of Salvatore Maroni from the news reports I’d seen.

“Thanks to Mr. Maroni’s well-placed sources, we know that police have indeed identified our banks using marked bills, and are planning to seize your funds today. And since the enthusiastic new DA has put all of my competitors out of business, I’m your only option.” The man’s voice sounded like it was coming through a speaker. Did we hear a TV being put on the table?

“So what do you propose?” Maroni asked.

“Moving all deposits to one secure location, not a bank.”

“Where then?” questioned Maroni.

“No one can know but me. If the police were to gain leverage over one of you, everyone’s money would be at stake.”

“What stop them getting to you?” asked the Russian.

“I go to Hong Kong, far from Dent’s jurisdiction. And the Chinese will not extradite one of their own.”

“How soon can you move the money?” asked Maroni.

“I already have. For obvious reasons, I couldn’t wait for your permission. Rest assured, your money is safe.” The Joker started to laugh as he walked around the corner. It was terrifying at first, but as it became more and more tacky I realized he was poking fun at them. I tried not to laugh at how ridiculous he sounded, so I listened to and counted the clicks of my heels on the tile floor. The mob had made a U out of three tables, seated along the longer tables. A TV rested on a table in the front of the room.

“And I thought my jokes were bad.” The Joker grimaced, coming to a stop in front of the bottom of the U. I stopped behind him to his left, trying my best not to look at anyone.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t have my boy here pull your head off.” Said a black man along the right table. Another black man stood up.

“How about a magic trick?” asked The Joker. He reached inside his jacket and produced a pencil. He placed it on the table, eraser up, and waved his hand mystically. “I’m gonna make this pencil disappear.”

“Enough.” Said the first black man, and the second rushed The Joker, his left arm outstretched. The Joker grabbed his arm and slammed his head down on the pencil, shoving it completely into his skull. The man bounced back off the tabletop and fell to the floor dead.

“Ta da!” The Joker yelled. “It’s…ah, it’s gone.” He growled, glancing at the men along the left. I could only imagine how many pounds of pressure it would take to shove a pencil through someone’s skull, but whatever the number, The Joker had to be pretty fuckin’ strong to do it easily. He had a pretty sexy voice when it got all low and rough. The sound sent chills down my spine. The Joker pulled out the only empty chair and sat down, locking his fingers together. I wasn’t expecting him to acknowledge me in any way, because what he acknowledged, so would the mob. “And by the way, the suit? It wasn’t cheap. You oughta know, you bought it.” He said, pulling the sides of his jacket closer around him. The black man jumped up, ready to attack The Joker.

“Sit. I want to hear proposition.” Ordered the Russian, and gestured for the black man to sit. The Joker looked at the man, his eyebrows raised.

“Let’s rewind the clocks back a year. These cops and lawyers wouldn’t dare cross any of you. I mean, uh, what happened, d’your balls drop off? You see a guy, like me-“

“A freak.” Spat the black man, interrupting The Joker.

“A guy like me, look-listen-“ The Joker clicked his tongue. “I know why you choose to have your little-“ he cleared his throat. “-group therapy sessions in broad daylight. I know why you’re afraid to go out at night. The Batman.” He paused. “You see, Batman has shown Gotham your true colors, unfortunately. Dent, he’s just the beginning. A-and as for the televisions so-called plan,” he waved his arm at the TV. “Batman has no jurisdiction. He’ll find him and make him squeal.” The Joker wrung his hands together, his gloves squeaking. “I know the squealers when I see them and…” he pointed to the man on the screen.

“So what do you propose?” asked the Russian. The TV screen went blank.

“It’s simple, we uh kill the Batman.” He ran his hand over his hair. The men balked at the idea.

“If it’s so simple, why haven’t you done it already?” Maroni asked.

“If you’re good at something, never do it for free.”

“How much you want?” The Russian queried. The Joker leaned forward in his chair.

“Uh, half.” He said. Everyone in the room laughed.

“You’re crazy.” Said the black man.

“I’m not. No, I’m not.” The Joker enunciated the t.

“Give us the girl and we’ll talk.” Maroni offered, eyeing me from head to toe. I suppressed the urge to spit on him as bile rose in my throat.

“Not a chance.” The Joker breezed past it. “If we don’t deal with this now, soon-“ The Joker made a who-knows face. “-little uh, Gambol?” he looked at the black man. “-here won’t be able to get a nickel for his grandma.” He looked back at the other men. Gambol slammed his fist down on the table.

“Enough from the clown!” he yelled.

“Ah ta ta ta ta.” The Joker leapt from his seat and opened his jacket, revealing four or five grenades, all of their pins attached to a ring around his thumb. “Let’s not blow…this out of proportion.” He jiggled his hand warningly. Everyone backed up while The Joker and I remained motionless.

“You think you can steal from us and just walk away?” Gambol asked angrily.

“Yeah.” The Joker replied simply.

“I’m puttin’ the word out. Five hundred grand for this clown dead. A million alive, so I can teach him some manners first.” The Joker pointed his finger at Gambol like he was going to argue, but changed his mind and pointed to the mob instead.

“Alright, so listen. Why don’t you gimme a call when you want to start taking things a little more seriously. Here’s…my…card.” He pulled a joker card from his pocket and placed it on the table, then started to walk backwards toward another swinging door, humming a few notes in a warning manner. I walked through the door first and waited as he kicked the door open. He pulled the ring off of his thumb and tucked it inside his jacket pocket, then he grabbed my hand and we ran out to the van. The boys had it running, so we jumped in and sped off for home.

~~~~

“Are you alright?” The Joker asked me later that night. I was sitting on the couch, reading one of my books the men had brought to our little hideout. I guess The Joker felt bad about making me leave all my stuff behind, because he’d sent all of his men to my apartment to grab my clothes, books, personal stuff, etc.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I liked your magic trick.” I laughed.

“You weren’t scared?” he pressed, sitting down next to me.

“Of you? No, I knew you wouldn’t hurt me. I did get scared when Maroni eye fucked me though.” I stuck out my tongue and made a gagging noise to show my disgust. The Joker giggled.

“So tell me about you.” I closed the book and turned to face him, sitting cross-legged.

“What about me?” he asked.

“I don’t know, anything! Your favorite color, that’s always a good one.”

“I don’t have a favorite color.”

“Everyone has a favorite color. And blood doesn’t count.” I giggled.

“Oh darn.” The Joker snapped his fingers. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the guys were staring at us and I turned to look back at them.

“What’s up?” I asked, leaning back on the arm of the couch to view them upside down.

“You guys get along really well.” One said cautiously.

“Yeah, it’s kinda creepin’ us out.” Said another.

“I could not be myself, would that help?” I asked jokingly, smiling at them. I sat up, coming face to face a bemused Joker. “Come on, favorite color.” I whacked his leg with my book.

“I told you, I don’t have a favorite color. What about yours?” he asked.

“Fine. Purple.” I smiled. “And no, it didn’t change because I met you.”

“Favorite book?” That took some thought.

“The Notebook.” I answered after a minute. “What’s yours, The Anarchist’s Handbook?”

“Close. Why The Notebook?” He leaned on his right elbow.

“I like to believe in true love, even though I know it doesn’t exist and I’m just fooling myself.” I turned to look at the fireplace, mesmerized by the flames within.

“Bad childhood?”

“What does that have to do with my willingness to believe in the loyalty of human beings? And you already know that.” I reminded him with a smile.

“It makes sense that the start of your life was horrific, and so you cling to the idea of true love to make yourself feel better about the world.”

“Psych major?” I asked with a smile, trying to imagine The Joker in college.

“No, no, just long hours of staring into that dark void that attracts pessimists and thinkers.” He chuckled.

“Yeah, I know how that is. I used to spend hours locked in my room, trying to make sense of everything. It helped block out my dad.”

“What’s your take? How do you view the world?”

“I say the world is a shithole. Everyone is miserable and they in turn, feel the need to make everyone else miserable.”

“Sounds depressing.”

“That’s why I’m determined to be different. I don’t want a normal life, or a normal job. Hell, I don’t even want a normal family!” I laughed to myself.

“Not even a little bit?”

“No, not really. I mean, if I could find a man that I don’t get bored with in a matter of months, I might be able to get somewhere, but everyone is just so boring! It’s like dating gray blob number one versus dating gray blob number two; and it never ends. It’s like everyone believes what the world tells them to believe.” The Joker made a sympathy noise.

“What do you mean by boring? You get tired of people that fast?”

“Well I’m not saying I don’t enjoy little things like reading a book by the fire,” I gestured to the roaring flames in front of us. “-but I crave…excitement. Something you can’t find by living in a neat little cardboard box, you know? I can’t live a normal life, I can’t get married to some guy who wants to spend his life paying taxes and doing everything by the book; I’d go nuts. I mean, do I look like the kind of girl who can just let some guy walk into my life and gain control of me and just say, ‘Ok honey, whatever you want!’”

“Not at all. You certainly don’t say ‘Ok’ and let things be. You question everything, and people probably wondered why you couldn’t just shut your pretty mouth and let the big boys take care of it, right?”

“Right! I don’t want to just roll over and play nice with the other kids. I want to kick the other kid’s ass, and laugh while I’m doing it.”

“You are surprisingly fit for my line of work.” The Joker laughed. “How odd.” He said vaguely.

“Odd my ass, you probably had me followed, and I already know you researched me, because I bet that secretly, you hoped I would be the type of person you need. You’ve been planning this for a while, haven’t you?”

“Maybe. Who knows?” The Joker shrugged. “Like I said, you have that look about you that just begs for chaos. I imagine you’ve always been an adrenaline junkie, craving excitement like drugs, getting bored with everyday life.”

“At least you understand me. My family thought I was nuts for a while. I’d get depressed whenever things got too boring. They ended up sending me over to Arkham for a couple months.”

“You’re not crazy, Jazmyne, you’re like me. You want to shake things up, cause panic and disorder. You want to watch the world burn.”

“I want to change the world. I don’t want to be ordinary; I want to be me, with no rules and complete anarchy.” I looked over at The Joker, who was eyeing me like a kid in a candy store. “What?”

“It’s strange, isn’t it? That you want to live without rules, and yet you live a generally normal life. That you get bored with routines and men living in their fancy boxes, but I’m sure you flit around from one short-term relationship to another, searching for what you want most: chaos. The very thing you want is the very thing I create. I think we’re destined to work together to bring this boring, pathetic little world to its knees.”

“You are a lot smarter than people give you credit for.” I smiled. “And you’re right, it is strange. I never thought about doing this kind of thing.”

“Well what do you want to do with your life?”

“I have no idea.” Smiling, I tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “I never really thought about it. To be honest, I always saw myself singing on street corners until I die. I don’t have a plan; I just do whatever I want.”

“So you’re the kind of girl who loves random surprises, and unpredictable people.”

“Like you! You’re unpredictable, and you always surprise me with the most random things. You complete me.” Even though I didn’t know him that well, I could just tell the what I was saying was true.

“So tell me more about your childhood. My research didn’t explain much.”

“What more do you need to know, my father was a monster. He enjoyed causing us pain. It was so bad that Mom got Johnny and I involved in stuff just to keep us out of the house.”

“So that’s where all the activities come from.”

“Yeah. I used to play piano too, until my father destroyed it.” I looked down at my feet. “I loved that piano. It was my grandmothers.”

“Destroyed?”

“Yeah, just…” I swung my arm. “-chopped it to pieces. I’ve always wanted to get another one. Well, if I ever get my life in order. I can barely pay rent.” I laughed bitterly.

“When did he destroy it?”

“Right before I dropped out of school. I came home with a report card, with almost straight A’s I might add, and he went off saying I would never be good enough and until I was perfect I was gonna suffer. Of course, he was drunk and didn’t make any sense. But he went after the ax and came back and chopped my piano to pieces with me watching. I’ll never forget the look in his eyes.”

“Want me to kill him?” The Joker asked.

“No, if anyone ever does, it will be me. I hate that bastard; I hope he rots in hell.” The Joker smiled at me.

“Do you want another piano?” he asked.

“I would love to play again. I’ve actually been thinking that the sun room would be perfect for one. But hey, enough about me. What’s your favorite book?”

“Alright, you’ve told me enough, so I’ll answer this question and one more. My favorite book is Dante’s Inferno.”

“Why?”

“That counts as your second question; sure you wanna ask?”

“Yes, I’m curious.” I folded my knees and rested my chin on them. “Come on, tell me!” I urged him.

“Because I like the idea of people getting what they deserve. It’s what started me thinking about giving people what they deserve instead of letting fate deal the cards.”

“Because we all control our destinies.” I agreed.

“Exactly. For not finishing high school, you are incredibly smart.”

“Thank you.” I hid a yawn behind my hand. “I guess it’s getting late. Well, thank you for the stimulating conversation and all the fun we had today, but I’m really tired so I’ll see you in the morning.” I climbed up from the couch and stretched, book in hand. “Good night.” I headed to my room, delighted by The Joker’s wit. I had a feeling things were going to get very interesting.

“Good night.” I heard The Joker call from the living room.