Robin: Beginnings - Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

A Bolt Ruins My Life

Do I have my own dressing room? Yes, yes, I do. Is it embarrassing? Yeah, pretty much. But I enjoy it. I inspect my reflection in the full-length mirror, running a hand through my hair, making finger guns at myself. Stupid, I know. But hey, when no one’s watching, why not goof off?

I’m still dressed in my leotard, but Mom’s decided to add some more pizazz to the outfit. As if a leotard isn’t enough, I have to wear a stupid mask. I pull at it, the feathers tickling my nose. 

But at least Uncle Rick and Dad have to wear them too. Mom has her makeup, so she gets a free pass. But honestly, I can’t decide which would be better— or less embarrassing. 

Speaking of Mom and Dad, I hear them now, across the room, whispering. I don’t want to listen. I shouldn’t listen. But I do. 

“John, we can’t do it.” Mom’s voice chokes. “I can’t do it. We should retire and move on from the circus. Live a normal life.”

“You know we can’t do that, Mary.” Dad’s voice rolls in deep waves. I can just imagine him rubbing her back, trying to keep her from crying. I want to run out there, but I don’t know what I’d say. 

What do you say to comfort someone if you don’t even know why they’re upset? Besides, who even wants to see a woman cry? They get so weepy and messy and sobby that I never know what to do. 

I peer from behind my curtain, watching as Dad enfolds Mom in a hug. “We have to carry on the Grayson legacy. Don’t you worry. He’ll be okay.”

He? ‘He’ who? Me? Why would they be worrying about me? I mean, apparently, I am good at stumbling into dangerous situations like gangs and stuff, but we took care of that. And why would they even want to leave Haly’s Circus? I thought they’d retire eventually, but so soon? 

My stomach launches into a double flip, twisting over itself. “Leave?” I can’t stop the words from tumbling out. I might as well have shot a gun for how my parents reacted, jumping in unison and whipping over to see my head poking out of the curtain. “We aren’t leaving the circus… are we?” It’s stupid, I know, but my voice shakes.

“Oh, my baby Robin—” Mom steps towards me, her arms out, “Were you listening to all that?”

I nod, stepping out of my dressing room and towards her. My hands don’t know what to do, so they fidget, picking at the sequins on my leotard. “You two… were arguing and—”

“We aren’t leaving Haly’s, Dickie Bird.” Dad strides up to us, his hand resting on Mom’s shoulder, his smile untangling the knot in my stomach. “This is our home. Mom’s just… worried about how dangerous it can sometimes be.”

Mom sinks to her knees in front of me, smoothing my hair away from my face and straightening my mask. “That’s right. That Zucco guy, that whole thing was scary. We just… we want you to be safe, Little Bird.”

I want to point out that they were arguing before we even came to Gotham, but I don’t. I lunge for a hug, burying my face into Mom’s shoulder, my mask prickling my cheeks. I don’t even know what to say. That it was scary? That I am worried? That I don’t want them to argue anymore? That all I want is to turn on my song and dance? But I say nothing. Instead, I turn my head to the side as Dad joins in on the hug, his strong arms swallowing Mom and me. “I’m safe with you guys here,” I whisper, sighing as Mom squeezes me tighter.

Laugh it up. I get it. I’m such a sissy, such an emotional simp. But I don’t care. Get threatened by a gang leader, and come back after your parents talk about leaving home and moving away from all your friends and what you love, then we’ll talk. You can’t tell me that no one hugs their parents at a time like this. 

Uncle Rick ruffles my hair, interrupting the moment. When he smirks, the pressure on my chest lifts, and my heart steadies. We’re staying at the circus… with our family. Zucco is gone; C.C. Haly, Dad, and the others saw to that. 

“Darn right, Champ! You’re safe to look like an adorable little bird zipping over the crowd.” Uncle Rick winks from behind his mask. “All the grandmas will want to shower you with candy, and all the girls will want to dress you in frills.”

“I’m not the only one who looks like a sissy, Uncle Rick,” I smirk at him, then at Dad. “All you guys need are baby bonnets.”

“Sissy? Why, you little—” Dad tickles my side, and Uncle Rick slams into us, howling with laughter. 

Mom tries to pull us apart, her giggles making her sound like Raya as she smacks Dad on the shoulder, telling him and Uncle Rick to act their age. How can she tell them to act their age when she’s giggling like a schoolgirl? Do girls and boys never really grow up? Because sometimes, I think that adults are just big kids. 

From outside the dressing room, C.C. Haly bellows from his place in the center ring, his voice booming over the loudspeakers. The crowd cheers, stomping their feet, having the time of their lives. I hear C.C. Haly welcome local Billionaire Bruce Wayne to the circus, with thundering applause and catcalls breaking through our laughter. 

As C.C. Haly bids the Vestri’s animal antics farewell, I know it is time to stop goofing off. It’s time to put on a show. Miraculously, we tidy up just in time to walk out into the center ring, no sign of our family tussle noticeable as we climb the ladder, unnoticed by the audience, who’s preoccupied with one of the clowns rolling along on a trike, trying to escape a giant tortoise. Don’t ask. I don’t even know. 

I stand on the landing with my family, posing in front of them, waiting for the spotlight to find us. Below, C.C. Haly grabs the crowd with his rolling, jovial call. “Ladies and Gentlemen, children of all ages, I ask you to turn your eyes to the heavens.”

The spotlight sweeps up, the filters casting a blue and silver glow over us. The crowd leaps into applause, thundering, cheering, screaming our names. “From their perch above—” I wave at the crowd as the music swells, as the drums boom. My heart rattles inside my chest, and my arms itch for the feeling of the bar between my fingers. “I present to you—” 

Dad gets ready to jump, his teeth shining in the lights, his mask not hiding the twinkle in his blue eyes, “The Fantastic, Fearless Flying Graysons!”

Like always, Dad leaps onto the bars, launching into our routine. Mom follows; like a swan, she glides through the air, catapulting into flips. They’re amazing out there, in their dance above the crowd. 

I remember the first time I saw them up there as a little kid. I wasn’t old enough to get anywhere near the ladder, though I learned to walk on a highwire. I sat on the ground, looking up to where my parents were supposed to be. Instead, I saw a soaring hero and a graceful angel. And I know that’s not just me. The crowd oohs and ahhs, clapping as they twirl.

As Uncle Rick swings out to catch Mom, I get ready for my part of the performance. I’m aching to get out there, to fly with my family. But I stop when I hear a horrible creaking, grinding noise. It cuts through me like a knife. I look up. 

The hooks that attach the trapeze lines to the poles are missing the bolts that are supposed to hold them in place. My mind whirls like a top as I look back at Mom who’s swinging towards me. 

She sees it. Dad sees it. Uncle Rick sees it. 

All I see is Mom falling, her sapphire eyes wide, her arms outstretched, reaching for me. She screams my name as she falls, as they fall. I don’t know what I’m doing as I skid my knees at the edge of the landing. I don’t know what I’m seeing as I stare down at their bodies on the sawdust— their bodies that aren’t moving—something red pools around Mom’s head. 

What’re they doing down there? Why aren’t they moving? 

Why didn’t I catch her?

The crowd gasps and screams. The big top explodes as parents rush their kids out, as people surge from the stands in waves. But I don’t notice. I’m sliding down the ladder, my fingers numb against the biting metal. I’m wandering towards where they lie, unmoving. 

Why haven’t they gotten up? Why aren’t they waving at the crowd, laughing at the reaction to their daring joke? 

Why… why didn’t I catch them?

“Mom?” My voice’s far away like someone else is speaking. Her arms are limp, her body twisted in a way it isn’t supposed to twist. Dad’s neck is bent weird, his eyes open as he stares at me. No… he doesn’t stare because… because…

“Mom! Dad!” I surge forward. I need to get to them! I need to make sure they’re—

Hands grab me, pull me away. I thrash, I try to fight, but everything’s cold, gone. “No! No! I have to help them! They fell!” My words are strange, alien. This isn’t real. It can’t be real. If it were, Mom and Dad would be over here in a flash, their voices assuring me that this is just a joke. Part of the act.

Why didn’t I catch them?

“Dick…” The voice belongs to Mr. Vestri, his strong, dark arms holding me back, holding me tight. “Dick…”

No, no, no… The word keeps banging around in my head as if it would help. But it doesn’t. My lips tremble as I’m pulled back, my stomach knotting itself. That didn’t just happen. They’re okay… they have to be! Why didn’t I catch them?

All I can see as the circus performers swarm their bodies, as the on-staff medical team rushes in, is Mom’s limp, white hand. I can still hear her voice in my head. It’s so real, so warm, that this has to be a dream. There’s no way this cold, pale world is real. 

No… no… no. Not real… wake up, Dick! This isn’t real!

“Officer.” Mr. Vestri’s voice rumbles against my back, but I don’t look at who he’s talking to; I look at the carts wheeling in and Uncle Rick strapped down on a stretcher, where Mom and Dad don’t move but are set into large black bags.

“Dick, is it?” A strange voice speaks. Mr. Vistri’s gone. A strange man dressed in a white button-up shirt and tan jacket kneels in front of me, his hand heavy on my shoulder. I know he’s an officer from the badge swinging around his neck. “Can you tell me what happened, Dick?”

I don’t answer. I stare at him, at his white-streaked red hair, at his bushy mustache. “Dick… I know this is…hard. But I need you to help me. What happened?”

“They’re…?” I look at the ambulance, the surge of flashing lights. The whispering of the crowd and the sobbing from my troupe rings in my ears, and I know. 

I know. He doesn’t even need to say it, but he does. “Yes.”

I don’t want to stay here. I can’t stay here. I run forward, past the man, past the crowd, stumbling towards the ambulance as it barrels through the grounds, sirens blaring. I don’t know what I’m going to do, what I’m even doing, but I keep running. 

My vision blurs, but I don’t care. They can’t be gone… they can’t be gone… not like this… not ever. “Mom!” My voice croaks, and I trip, but I keep going, my heart pounding, jumping in my chest. “Dad! Uncle Rick!”

Gone, gone, gone… No! No! No! Why didn’t I catch them?!

“Dick!” I ignore the calls. I have to get to them! They can’t leave me! “Dick!”

I bolt forward, shaking as the ambulance tears out of the grounds and across Amusement Mile towards the bridge, picking up speed. No!

Hands grab me, and I thrash. I might scream, I might hit, I might cry, but I don’t know. I sink in the arms that hold me, that pick me up. I shiver in the blanket they wrap around me, ignoring the hands taking off my mask, letting the world see my puffy eyes. 

Words are blurred. Raya’s hug is lost. I can’t even look at her. I can’t look at any of them. How could this happen? It isn’t their fault… I know this. The only people I could yell at are dead in an ambulance. Dad and Uncle Rick set those lines themselves. They checked them a dozen times. This isn’t possible… this isn’t real. Why didn’t I…

“—can’t take him!” Haly’s voice is far away. He can’t be the man standing next to me; that man’s a red and gold blob. “This is his family, right here! This circus is his home!”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Haly, but you don’t have custody. We have to take him.” The police officer can’t be the one whose hands are on my shoulder; those hands are phantoms.

“And leave him there? Alone, with people he doesn’t know? At a time like this?” Mrs. Vestri can’t be the one who speaks up; she’s too far away. “We’re friends of the family!”

“I’m sorry, ma'am, but we need to find out who has legal guardianship. Until then, he has to come with us. There’s no way around it. Don’t worry; we’ll make sure to take good care of him until this gets sorted out.” The phantom hands squeeze my shoulders, but not like Zucco. Not like—

My head jerks up. I don’t know what I’m looking for, but I find it. No one else notices the man standing with the evacuating crowd, the man with the dual-colored eyes. The man holds up a small sign. A sign that reads ‘The Fantastic, Famous, Falling Graysons.’

He smiles at me, draws a hand across his neck, and points. Points right at me. 

But all I do is stare. I stare at him when the policeman takes me and puts me in the back of the car. I stare at him as we pull out of the grounds, lights flashing. I stare at him when I leave Haly’s Circus behind— not realizing the horrible truth. 

I’m never going to see it again.

To be Continued...