Gotham Knight (TWO)

Gotham Is

Bruce Anthony Wayne, The Batman

Every Saturday, the Gotham Gazette includes a small life-styles piece called "Gotham Is."

In the column, random Gothamites are asked to complete the sentence "Gotham Is ..." using three words or less. The Gazette has been running the "Gotham Is" column for years, ever since I was a boy.

Here are some of the words used to describe Gotham the past few weeks: Damned. Cursed. Bedlam. Murderous. Gotham is villainous. Gotham is a losing game. Gotham is hopeless.

Once in a while, someone names one of the city's villains as their answer to the "Gotham Is" question. Usually it's some kid, a teenager going for shock value. "Gotham is Killer Croc." meaning the city is little more than a cannibalistic monster. I've seen a few Mr. Freezes. Two Black Masks. Lately, I've seen a couple new names appear, too. 

But for me, Gotham's criminals, whether old, or new, will never define this city. Because in the end, they're simple and cowardly, ruled by predictable desires. Granted, now and then, one of them will do something that catches even me off-guard.

Of course, the most common answer to the "Gotham Is" question is  "Batman." "Gotham is Batman. Gotham is Batman's city. Gotham is The Bat." All answers I'm partial too, myself.

Still, I like to think a vote for Batman is a broader affirmation-- a vote for all of Gotham's heroes. A vote for the GCPD. Honest, tireless men like Commissioner Jim Gordon.

Lately, I've been asking myself the "Gotham Is" question a lot . . .

I parry twice to the left, dodging three punches. The frail man in front of me swipes again, giving me enough space to roll behind him, grabbing him by the hair on his nape. He yell out as his face slammed the ground. "THE JOKER. WHERE IS HE?!" I roared down to him. "I'm not with him! I know nothing . . . come on, man please!" he plead, tears about to break the thin line below his eyes. 

"Well you know something." I told him. He looked around, spitting out random letters and words trying to form a sentence or remember back to something he might know that would help me. Finally, he yelled as he remembered something. "THE OWLS!" he screeched. "THE OWLS!" he continued to yell.

"Owls?" I curiously raised an eyebrow. "THE COURT OF THE OWLS!" he yelled at me. I sighed. Again, with The Court of the Owls. "The Court of the Owls. An old wives tale, that one's not working on me." I half rolled my eyes as the man laughed.

"The great Batman doesn't know about The Court?" he tried to giggle, but I forced pressure to his throat, gagging him. He regained his breathe. "The police . . . the civilians . . . they think it's a folk tale . . . something to scare the children." His eyes narrowed as he continued. "The head officials of the city. You think they're corrupt? Ohh, they're much worse."

"What do you know about them?" my voice boomed through the small alley. "I don't know what they do . . . or why they do it . . . but I can tell you, that they're not happy with you, Batman. Whispers on the street say they're coming for you next," the evil, yellow-toothed man smiled and then winked. "I'd watch your back." My forearm swiftly went into the middle of his face, knocking him unconscious.

The Court of the Owls.

I tagged the body with the Police Tracker, and grappled up to the rooftop. Running away, it got me thinking about the "Gotham Is" question again.  

. . . but my view is, when it comes to Gotham, you don't know it. It knows you. And the moment you think otherwise, the moment you get too comfortable . . . that's right when it stabs you in the back. 

Because above everything ... Gotham is a mystery.