Must Love Hyenas

05: Laughter

"Do you want to talk about it?" Harleen asked.

"No," John growled. He splashed water on his face while leaning over the sink in the corner of his cell.

"It might help," Harleen suggested.

"I don't remember!" John snapped. "My past is a complete blank until I go to sleep. During those few hours, I get it all back, but I lose it again the moment I wake up. Considering the terror I still feel afterwards, I'm fairly certain I don't want to remember, so stop asking."

"Alright," Harleen relented. She sat down on the bed and leaned back against the wall, content to wait in silence as long as he needed.

John gripped the sides of the sink, his hands nearly as white as the porcelain. He watched as drops of water fell from the tip of his nose and vanished into the darkness of the drain.

"Why did you wake me up?" John whispered. "I didn't feel anything. I certainly didn't feel like this. I can't live this way."

"I'm afraid you don't have much choice in the matter," Harleen countered.

"Can't you put me back to sleep?" John asked, turning around to face her directly rather than her reflection in the mirror.

"It won't help you," Harleen told him.

"Neither will having my mind shredded by these nightmares!" he almost screamed at her in response.

"Come, sit down," Harleen invited, patting the mattress beside her. John hesitated a moment but ultimately relented. "One of the many things I learned during my studies is how certain emotions can overpower different ones. Sadness, loneliness, and fear can be smothered by anger. When a person gets mad, other emotions, thoughts, and reason all fall away. Rage can drive a person to push past their fears and fight to live where otherwise they would die."

"Are you trying to make me mad?" John queried, looking at her sideways.

"No," Harleen denied with a chuckle. "Anger is too difficult to maintain for the long periods you'd need it, and it has its own negatives you wouldn't be wanting to adopt."

"So, what's the point?" John insisted.

"Anger is just one emotion," Harleen continued. "The one I've found capable of crushing it is humor. It's impossible to be mad when you're laughing yourself silly."

Harleen spun around on the bed and adjusted her position to be lying down on her back with her legs propped up against the wall. Producing a stick of gum from her pocket, she shed the outer wrapper of foil before popping the gum in her mouth. She offered another stick to John.

"Kick back, lighten up," Harleen suggested. "It wouldn't kill you to get some fun in your life, and it might take your mind off your troubles."

John remained unmoving for half a minute while he considered everything. Finally, he took the gum and copied her upside down posture against the cell wall.

"When I was very young, people used to pick on me because of my name," Harleen informed him. "Harleen Quinzel sounds a lot like harlequin, so they'd call me things like jester or stooge. I was nothing but a joke to them."

"Why are you telling me this?" John questioned.

Harleen rolled up her sleeve and revealed a checkerboard pattern of four sided, black and red diamonds from wrist to elbow. Written in white script across the tattoo was the name Harley Quinn.

"I decided to go with it," she answered. "I figured it wouldn't sting so much if I adopted the persona. I started learning jokes, watching comedians on the internet. I even bought a few prank gifts."

"Did they leave you alone?" John asked.

"After a while, I was having too much fun to care what they thought of me," Harleen replied. "Besides, who were they that their opinions even mattered?"

"It's strange someone interested in having fun would come to work here," John pointed out.

"Not really," Harleen denied. She blew a bubble with her gum. "You try."

John nearly spit out his gum on the first attempt, causing Harleen to almost choke on her own while laughing.

"You have to stick out your tongue like this," Harleen instructed before demonstrating.

John's second attempt was only a slight bubble, but it was progress.

"Better," she praised. "You see, if I hadn't come here, you wouldn't have learned this valuable skill."

Harleen giggled, and John managed a small smile.

"The world needs more smiles in it," Harleen commented. "If people were happier, they wouldn't let little things get to them as much because they'd be too blissful to care. As it is, gloom slithers in like water seeping into fabric until everything is soaked, then everyone's a wet blanket."

"The world is a dark place if it needs facilities like this," John mused quietly. "Putting the broken minds of people back together again."

"Putting the broken back together shows that not all is lost," Harleen suggested. "Some good can come out of even the direst of situations. People get scars, but they learn from the experience how to avoid the pain in the future. Not always, but sometimes, those who've gone through trauma can become more resilient to it, making them the perfect people to deal with the problem and make sure it doesn't happen to anyone else."

Harleen glanced over at John who was staring darkly at the ceiling.

"When putting a person's mind back together," Harleen suggested with a sly smile. "The best treatment is crazy glue."

John didn't respond.

"You should learn to laugh," Harleen encouraged with a friendly elbow in his ribs. "If you could find the humor in things, the weight you carry might not be as crushing."

"Maybe," John grudgingly admitted. "From the sense I get about those nightmarish memories of mine, there isn't much funny about that."

"Probably not," Harleen agreed. "But we can find funny things about your life now, something worth living for in the present. You did survive whatever it was you went through. As bad as it was, you lived, and your life can go from here in any direction you choose. Given the choice, wouldn't you prefer to be happy?"

"I'm not sure how," John replied.

"Start with blowing a few bubbles with me," she offered, popping a large bubble with her gum. "We'll go from there."