Love Short Story – The Batgirl
Photo credit: koimedia from morguefile.com
It was six pm on a Thursday evening and I called it a day in office. Although I had physically left the office, in my head, I was still going over the presentation I was going to make on the next day. I should have been nervous about the meeting; it was kind of big deal. Only, I wasn’t. I didn’t care enough to be nervous. I was having a really bad week. Making mistakes at work, fighting at home, getting in unnecessary arguments and going to bed either angry or upset. It was not just this week; I had been in an irritable state for some time now. I was stuck in the same job doing pretty much the same thing for 3 years. It just felt wrong, all of it. They said a good job that pays well and has a decent sounding designation was the key to happiness. Maybe that’s why I was angry with everybody, because everybody lied. I was far from happy.
I remember feeling the kind of sadness I had never felt in my life before. I started my car and started shuffling through the radio channels. A song caught my attention; I could figure it was my favorite band but I didn’t know the song. I wasn’t shocked at this because after college I was hardly able to keep up with my favorite band, favorite author or comic or movies. Coming back to the song, I don’t really remember the lyrics so much but it was about a traveler exploring and describing the epiphanies he had on the road away from comfort. Listening to the song I felt hope, happiness and sadness simultaneously. I’m not sure whether it was this song or something else but instead of taking the same road where I battled my way through the traffic to reach home, I took a different turn. I decided to go and spend some time with that one thing about this city that is always there for you, no matter what. There is something about the sea. This city loves it. Maybe because even on the most chaotic and crowded nights, the sea gives you a feeling of peace and stability. I reached there, sat in my car as I burned out 3 cigarettes and then stepped out. As I walked along the sea-shore I kept getting flashbacks of all the time we spent there while in college. I found a nice, less crowded spot and got comfortable. I remember how I threw my friend’s matchbox in the sea while arguing that he should not smoke, it was bad for health. So much had changed, only if it was for good.
I sat there quiet, lost. Then she came. Wearing a dorky Batman t-shirt, usual denim pants, sneakers and geeky spectacles; she had this diary with her, a pen clipped on its binder and a backpack on her shoulder. She seemed calm, sorted and was wearing an honest smile. She came and sat next to me. We smiled at each other and she said “who’s dead!?”
“Wh-What! Nobody” I replied as I surprisingly searched purpose of her question in her willful eyes. I can’t think of the last time I opened a conversation so casually, usually it’s always fake greetings that I open with.
Searching something in her backpack with touch instead of vision she said “Well, you look like you’re coming from a funeral or else explain the black suit on your body and sadness on your face” She paused as if she found what she was looking for, she pulled out some chewing gum with only 3 pellets left. She offered me one indicating with her fingers that she could smell cigarettes, as I accepted the gum she continued “Wassup man, why so serious?”
Still trying to adjust myself to the frank and straightforward comments I said “nothing much actually, just a bad day at the office”
With the sudden incredulity on her face she raised her voice and said “A bad day at work did this to you, what are you made of wax! Stop being such a cry-baby!”
I chuckled and looked to change the topic of conversation, so, I said “by the way, I didn’t get your name”
Instantly she looked right in my eyes like she knew I was going to say that. “That’s because I didn’t tell you my name. Okay, what would you call me if I don’t tell you my name?” she asked with a grin on her face.
It was like she had to surprise me with every reply. I started to enjoy this conversation and I could breathe out of the air of melancholy that surrounded me. Unsure if my reply was interesting enough for someone of her demeanor I answered “The Batgirl” pointing at her t-shirt.
She chuckled and said “And you’re Black suit!” Then she looked at the twinkling stars and said “Man is least himself when he talks in his own person, give him a mask and he will tell you the truth”
Looking at the horizon I nodded accepting the truth in that statement. She got up and walked a few yards, I was still trying to solve her. She looked back over her shoulder and said “Hey, Black suit, walk with me”
Oh! That innocent authority in her voice! I got up, grabbed her diary that she left where she was sitting and followed her. She saw her diary in my hands and snatched it instantly. We walked and chatted about authors, comics, music, movies and even porn. I was stunned to discover how much we had in common and yet we were poles apart as a person. While we walked along side the seashore I saw a few kids playing with soapy water bubbles and smiled. I felt almost as joyous as those kids, like the joy was contagious. While I stood there admiring the simplicity there is to happiness, she went in pursuit of some. She saw the guy selling the soapy water bubbles solution and bought one. We created some serious bubbles.
In midst of all the fun she suggested that we go to a jazz club that was not far from there. She was considerate enough to make it sound like I had a choice. I like jazz, in college when all my peers were busy exploring Akon and Enrique; I searched for a soul to discuss Frank Sinatra and Ray Charles. We went in the club and argued on which beer was better. In the meanwhile the band played a cover of ‘My Way’ by Frank Sinatra and I loved it. I told her how much I loved that song and that it is one of my favorite songs ever.
“You don’t seem to live by it though” she said it like she knew me and the phase I was going through in my life. We left the bar. I was still trying to solve her. She turned to me and hopped, made a fake sad face and virtually yelled “I’m starving Black suit, feed me”
She never ceased to amuse me. I suggested a three star Italian restaurant nearby. At this suggestion of mine she reacted by putting her finger in mouth and acted out vomiting. “Where do you want to go?” I asked and gave an interrogating look. She held my hand and dragged me to an Egg-bhurji joint by the street. As we walked to the joint all I could concentrate was her fingers entangled in mine. The touch of her skin … That touch!
She was all goofy with her food. She made an orgasmic face with every bite of the most delicious egg-bhurji I’ve ever had. As soon as I had first bite she looked up at me and said “Italian restaurant!?” all I did was smiled at her and enjoyed my meal. After the roadside dinner we went back and sat in the same spot. Both of us sat quietly for a moment and then I asked “So, Batgirl, what’s your real name?”
She looked into my eyes and asked me to close my eyes. She had a way of saying things, I couldn’t refuse. I closed my eyes and I didn’t know what to expect because she was the most spontaneous person there is. As I was figuring out what to expect I felt her lips against mine. It felt like the softest things my lips have ever touched. I wished for that moment to never end. But it did, I opened my eyes and looked deep into hers. She looked down and smiled gently. I didn’t know she was capable of being shy. We looked at the horizon and embraced the serene silence a midst the sound of waves.
She kept scribbling something in her diary all night. I tried to sneak a peek a few times but I couldn’t. So, looking at the diary I asked “what do you keep penning in that?”
She smiled like she knew I was going to ask that at some point. With a smile like a professor would on an obvious query from a student she asked me to close my eyes again, to which I said “Again!?” with widened eyes and she replied with authority “Just do it”, I did. A moment passed by and I was clenching my eyes in attempt to keep them closed as I waited for something to happen.
After a few seconds when nothing happened I opened my eyes and she wasn’t beside me anymore. I looked left right almost snapping my neck. I got up ran a little to right then left and then stood there looking three-sixty degrees searching for her. I ran across the street and searched but there was no sign of her. I kept looking for her for almost half an hour but she was nowhere to be found.
I went back and sat down trying to absorb what had just happened. It was like she disappeared in thin air. After a while I gave up and headed back to my car. I kept thinking about her the whole time. I realized that I couldn’t even search her, I didn’t know her name or what she did. I kept thinking who was she? I reached home around 2 am and started going through all my old stuff, my old college ids, my Rubric’s cube, my copy of ‘The Catcher in the Rye’ and the draft of my column for my college magazine. That’s when I realized that I shouldn’t have given up writing. I always felt content when I penned down my perception for an audience. So I decided to start writing again, I didn’t know how but I had to.
As I lay in my bed that night I was still thinking about ‘The Batgirl’. Who was she? Where did she go? Was she even real or just a figment of my imagination? I guess I’ll never know. But I did have an epiphany that ‘We wear a mask for so long; we forget who we were beneath it’.
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