Hitchhiker
The light of the early dawn was disconcertingly blue. This was not a time for humans.
Mike switched on the kitchen light, only further reinforcing the absurd impotence of the dismal morning sky.
Feet scuffle.
Fridge handle.
Milk.
Scuffle.
He leaned half over the counter, eating some porrige. Or grits. Or oatmeal or something. Whatever. Now he would not die.
The car was cold; the roads were open. Streetlights were ambivalent. Mike hit ‘next’ on the shuffle cue a dozen times before realizing he was looking for silence.
He couldn’t remember what he’d been thinking about.
Whenever he listened to a book on tape, Mike pictured the voice talent sitting on a stool under a spotlight in the middle of a massive black-painted studio, caressing a worn copy of the book and miked to the teeth. That’s actually how he pictured all the music he listened to as well; everything performed under this one solitary spotlight, nothing before or after or outside. Except the Beach Boys.
He had no idea where the Beach Boys performed, but it sure wasn’t that spotlight. The beach?
That was what he’d been thinking about.
Red light.
Red light.
Yell-Red light.
Green light.
Batman.
The man dressed as Batman ran out in front of Mike’s accelerating car and gestured for him to stop. Mike did. The man gestured for Mike to roll down his window. Mike didn’t.
“I need a ride!” yelled the man dressed as Batman.
“I’m sorry, I need to go,” replied Mike lamely. Pretty lamely.
“Do you know who I am?” yelled the man dressed as Batman.
“A man dressed like Batman?”
“I’m the actual Batman, and I need your help to save the city.”
When Mike was a kid he had jumped off the high-dive to impress his friends. The trick, he discovered, was to never give yourself a chance to reconsider. Climb the ladder, walk to the end, and fall into the water- don’t even think about the jumping. The moment you thought about jumping, you had a choice. You could reconsider. Re-evaluate those pros and cons.
His hand was already on the passenger side door handle before Mike started listening to his doubts. Was this guy insane? Probably, but he was dressed as a vigilante, so it was probably the good kind of insane. Besides, it’d give him something to tell the boys during lunch. He’d have to take a picture with his cell phone.
He opened the door, and Batman got in. Mike got out of the intersection.
“You should put your seatbelt on,” said Mike.
“I need to be ready to tuck-and-roll. Just a precaution,” said Batman.
“Yeah, except I think I would get the fine if we get pulled over. Click it or ticket.”
“Fine.” said Batman. He put on his seatbelt.
They drove beneath more streetlights, power lines, and the lightening sky.
“So,” said Mike, “Why are you Batman?”
“Why do you ask ridiculous questions? I’m Batman because I’m a symbol of justice. The Penguin is going to release a horde or robotic penguins from the subway system, and I have to warn the mayor.”
“So are you one of Batman’s ‘helpers’?”
“No. What do you mean?”
“We’re not in Gotham. I don’t even think Gotham really exists, does it?”
“Guess that explains why I’m not there.”
“I guess.”
Batman stared out the windows. He slid open the cover for the sun roof.
“I have to be wary of attacks from above. My enemies think three-dimensionally.”
“Gotcha,” replied Mike, “So do you have those, what are they, batarangs? No that’s dumb. What are they called again?”
“Yes. Batarangs,” said Batman stiffly, “And yes I do.”
Batman pulled some batarangs off of his utility belt. Mike nodded.
Red light.
“Just run it,” said Batman, “We’re in a hurry.”
Mike stopped.
“You’re killing me. Do you have any idea how urgent this is?” Batman said.
“You know, for being an advocate of justice, you’re sure trying to break the law a lot.”
Batman was silent. Then he spoke.
“So what do you do? What’s your name?”
“I’m Mike. I’m a doughnut delivery guy.”
“I see. You know, it’s people like you that make society run.”
“Is that sarcasm?”
“No.”
“It’s just delivering doughnuts.”
“I think it’s beautiful,” said Batman.
Mike scowled so Batman couldn’t see. They sat in silence for a while.
“This is it,” said Batman. They were at city hall.
Mike pulled up to the curb and Batman was immediately out of the car. He quickly leaned back into the car and shook Mike’s hand.
“Thank you, Mike.”
“Mike Dobbins.”
“Thank you, Mike Dobbins. You’ve done your society a great service.”
“Yeah.”
Batman turned to go, and Mike called after him.
“Hey, if you’re ever around, look me up some time.”
Batman didn’t hear him. He was running up the steps of city hall, where several policemen were waiting with the mayor to usher Batman inside.
The doors had already been closed for a few seconds when Mike yelled out, “Why didn’t you take the Bat-Mobile?”
Green light.
