The Joker and Me

Chapter Eleven: Cut Off at the Mouth

When my blindfold came off, I was chained to a desk in a small interrogation room. It looked just like the ones on cop TV shows: nothing but a plain desk, some chairs, a door, and a two-way mirror. J walked around the table and sat in the chair, his arms resting and folding over one another on the table. He seemed calm, but also amused.

"Welcome, to the next test." He smiled, but it wasn't fully genuine. It seemed like he was nervous, which in turn made my stomach crawl. "Today we're gonna learn what to do if you ever get captured by my friend the bat." He leaned back in his chair, the front feet of it coming off the floor.

"What?" I said, confused by the whole idea. Why would I need to be ready for an interrogation? His face lost its smile, and he starred at me.

"Let me make it clear to you: if you get caught, I don't need you blabbering about anything, you got it?" He snapped, and I could tell that the whole situation was serious. I nodded quickly, and he smiled again. "Good, lets begin."

He stood, turned away from me, and began to pace the room. I could tell he was acting as if he were a cop because his posture changed: he was more hunched over than his usual stick-straight self. He cleared his throat. "So tell me, how dos yah know da Joke-ah?" He had an old Scottish accent now, as if he were apart of Scotland Yard.

"Um, well, I guess were friends or something like that." I didn't know what answer he wanted. He turned and slammed his hands onto the table.

"WRONG!" He glared at me, grinding his teeth. I cowered back. "They would figure you out in an instant! You're obviously nervous and now they know that you know me." He picked his hands up off the table, and he looked down at me. "I'll ask again: how do you know good ole mista J?"

I sat up in my chair, rolling my shoulders back to be taller. I was shaking, but I was trying to seem tough. I looked hi dead in the eyes and said: "I don't know him."

J clapped his hands, smiling. "Bravo, little pumpkin. You're getting better." He sat back down in the chair, leaning back and throwing his feet onto the table. "Question number dos: what do you plan to do with the rest of your life?"

This question confused me, because it had nothing to do with what a real police interrogation would. I decided to answer truthfully anyway. "Well, I was taken some hair styling classes, so maybe I could be a stylist. I've also thought-" I stopped talking when I met eyes with J. His expression told me that I had said the wrong answer. I knew what he was looking for. "I mean, I want to live here with you."

He kept staring at me with his face unchanging, but he clapped still. "That's an OK answer, I'll give you a C plus. The A plus answer was 'Continue living my innocent life.' That's what the police want to hear." He leaned in, getting closer to me. "You have any significant others?"

I paused; I didn't know what he wanted. Should I say that he was mine? Or does he want what I would say in a police interrogation? He shot up quick out of his chair, startling me.

"Why didn't you answer? Too scarred of the truth?" He leaned back down onto the table, supporting himself with his outstretched arms. "Is it me?" I glanced away from him, but this was obviously not the right move. He tensed up instantly. His face almost became solemn. "There is someone else, isn't there?"

I looked at him in fear. I don't know why, but my mouth reacted before I could: "Sort of."

He froze, seeming to stop breathing entirely. He just stared at me, open mouthed, as if I had just stabbed him in the gut. Before I could react, he spun around and left the room, slamming the door behind him. I knew he was watching me through the mirror, fuming. I don't know why I told him the truth. Maybe I was worried he would find it out anyway and hurt me for lying to him. I raised my hand and put one knuckle in my mouth, shaking from fear.

I head faint bangs and yelling, and I could only assume that it was coming from J. I started to shake more aggressively. The dorm slammed open again after a few quiet moments, and J slowly stepped into the dorm frame. He was holding his hands at his waist, and his hair was a wreck. I could tell he was sweating. He walked over and sat down calmly in the chair, breathing gently and closing his eyes. They burst open quickly, and they seemed to be bloodshot.

"I believe you have crossed the line, Jack." His voice was harsh and full of fury. He looked away from me. "I think you need to sit and think about the situation for awhile." Two goons walked into the room, and came around to both sides of me. I tried to jump up, but my handcuffs were attached to the table still, so I wasn't able to move much.

"J, J please! It's not what you think!" Tears began to pour down my face, and my voice felt like it wasn't making any sound.

"Take her away." He still couldn't look at me. As one goon unlocked my hands, the other one held my shoulders. I was screaming and kicking and pleading, but no one seemed to hear me. They carried me away and shut the door behind us, but not before I turned and looked at J, who was holding his face. It looked like he was crying.