I walk into the precinct on my first day back to work when Ed rushes me from completely out of the blue.
"Natalie, may I speak with you?" he asks.
"Of course Ed, what do you-" but I'm cut off by Ed grabbing my wrist and pulling me through the main hall, weaving past desks and the officers working them.
He stops in a dark side hall, "Natalie, I'm currently experiencing an existential crisis of sorts. No one appreciates what I do, and whenever I try to offer my help it's either shot down or ignored completely-"
I clasp my hand on Ed's shoulder, “Ed, you don’t need others to confirm that you’re an intelligent, kind man. You’re smart enough to figure that out on your own.”
His lips slowly curl into a smile, “Thank you Natalie.”
“Now c’mon,” I gesture, “they’re not going to give you anymore work for another hour or so, right?”
“W-well of course, but...why do you ask?”
I arch an eyebrow, “Ed, I know you keep an Atari 2600 in your workshop in the precinct basement. Now c’mon, let’s go play some Space Invaders.”
Ed taps furiously moves the joystick and taps the little red button while I look on. He plays Space Invaders on a small rabbit-ear television balanced on a rickety wooden table. His workshop is a small, dank room in the depths of the GCPD precinct. The little lighting in the room is tinted a light green, giving the room an eerie, almost unnatural glow.
“What I don’t understand is why the administration keeps such a tight hierarchy within the police force. If I’m qualified to do more than what my job requires, shouldn’t I be allowed, no, encouraged to assist?” Ed rants, as the line of aliens grow closer on the screen.
“Ed, they do encourage you to assist, it’s just that they don’t know if you’re completely qualified for these other jobs yet. They have to test the waters before they can trust you with anything serious,” I explain, leaning against the wall as I watch him play.
One of the aliens on-screen blasts him, ending the game. Ed pounds his fist onto his knee, before handing the controller to me, “Your turn.”
I chuckle, before I start a new game. While I play, Ed walks over to a small workbench on the other side of the room. He starts fiddling with a mechanical part lying on the bench, “On top of that, Ms. Kringle still refuses my requests for even civil lunch meetings.”
I sigh, “Have you tried doing something for her?”
“Oh, all the time. Once, she was having difficulty reaching a box on the top shelf in the annex, and I got it for her. She thanked me,” Ed smiles broadly, proud of his statement.
“No, I mean, something unwarranted, spontaneous. Something she isn’t in immediate need of, but you choose to do for her anyway because...well, you like her.”
Ed paces back toward me, where I’m struggling to keep the rows of aliens at bay, “Wow...you’re not very proficient at this, are you?”
I roll my eyes, “Ed, you know I’ve never been very good at video games.”
“Purely a psychological block. Your reflexes are excellent. Here, let me help,” before I can protest, Ed wraps his arms around me, his hands meeting mine at the base of the controller. I blush, as Ed guides my hands on the controller. His head rests at my shoulder, and I can’t help but lean my head slightly to meet his. But just as I make this gesture, he pulls away.
“There we go. See? You can do it,” he grins, stuffing his hands into his lab coat.
I look back up at the screen and see that I’ve defeated the first round of aliens. I wasn’t even paying attention to the screen.
I put down the controller, “I...I don’t feel like playing anymore.”
“What? But, but you were just getting good-” he’s cut off by the sound of the Atari as my character is shot and defeated.
Head bowed down, I make my way out of the room, heading back upstairs. Ed grabs my wrist, “Oh, c’mon, it was just one game. I have Pong, we can play multiplayer. You always beat me at that-”
He cuts off as I pull my wrist away from him, “It, it has nothing to do with that.”
I haven’t felt like this towards Ed in a long time, why are my feelings resurfacing now?
“Then what does it have to do with? Natalie, please, tell me.”
I turn away, the slightest hint of tears rimming the bottom of my eyes. He’s so clueless sometimes, but this has always been an ignorance of his that works to my advantage.
“Natalie please! Tell me! I need to know!” Ed demands, his voice sharp and commanding.
I nearly jump. I’ve never seen him this angry before, perhaps it’s his mood, but usually he’s so understanding.
“I-I’m sorry Ed. This was suppose to be a thing to help cheer you up and now...look, I just need to get to work, okay?”
Ed grabs my arm, more forcefully this time, and with it, pulls himself up onto the steps, imposing his height onto me. He towers over me, and I can see my reflection through the lenses of his glasses, “Natalie, tell me...now. You promised no secrets between us.”
I wrench my arm away once more, “No Ed, I’m never telling you. If you ever bothered to look, you would’ve figured it out years ago. Besides, it’s...it’s not even a secret worth telling.”
Turning away, I ascend the stairs, silent and solemn, while Ed stands completely still, his hand still reaching out. Even after all these years, he’ll never figure it out, and that’s probably for the best.
I arrive at Fish Mooney's to the tune of a rock song playing on the restaurant speakers. The restaurant area is strangely empty, usually there’d be waiters setting up for the night. I look over and I realize why, there are several men sitting at a single booth, all wearing dull grey suits and matching fedoras. Government workers.
I'd avoided Ed the rest of the day at work, although he tried approaching me several times. He’ll never know, and that’s honestly for the best. Ed and I have a great friendship, and besides…
I was going to end that with “I’m dating Oswald”, but am I? We’ve never spoken about our relationship at great lengths, and I’m not even sure if what he wants is a consistent relationship. He’s a murderous psychopath, those kind of people don’t generally seek stability.
I make it into the hallway, where Ann and Jack are talking.
“Hey Trixie, good to have you back,” Ann mumbles, lighting a cigarette.
“Hey, have any of you guys seem Lazlo lately?” Jack asks, “I haven’t seen in a week or so. We were suppose to play cards together last Saturday.”
I shrug, I hadn’t seen Lazlo either.
“Mooney had him whacked,” Ann explains, “he was showing weakness after Falcone’s guys beat him senseless.”
Jack raises an eyebrow, “Excuse me? She what?”
“You know, he got whacked,” Ann clarifies, waving around her cigarette, letting smoke waft in the air. But Jack still retained a confused expression. She rolls her eyes, before leaning her head forward slightly, and with her free hand, draws a line with her index finger from one side of her neck to the other.
“Oh…” Jack realizes.
The door to Fish’s office opens, and Fish steps out, along with a man with thick brown hair in a dark suit.
“Ladies...Jack, relax. We’re not opening tonight,” she explains, a stern look on her face.
“Why not Ms. Mooney?” Ann asks.
Fish turns around, her long fake nails curling around her fingers, “We’re under investigation by the Joint Congressional Un-American Activities Committee. They want all of you to stay here for questioning,” she looks over to the man by her side, “Timothy, why don’t you hang out with these nice people for a while? I need to speak to the...lovely men outside.”
“Yes Ms. Mooney,” Timothy nods.
She starts walking out, her high heels pounding against the hardwood floor. But suddenly she looks back, “And cheer up, will you? Twenty years ago y’all would’ve been thrown in jail without question. Trust me, this is nothing.”
She leaves, and we all glance among ourselves silently, until Jack breaks the silence.
“Did she just say, ‘y’all?’”
Ann whacks Jack over the back of the head, “Ouch!”
Timothy chuckles just a little, bringing the attention of the room to him.
“Oh yeah, everyone, this is Timothy, Mooney’s new umbrella guy,” Jack introduces. “Timothy, this is Ann and Trixie, they're dancers."
"Cool," Ann comments, before she leans her arm on my shoulder, "you know, Trixie's boyfriend was the last guy who had your job."
"He was not my boyfriend," I laugh, pushing her off of me.
She smirks, "Hey, could've fooled me."
"What's up you guys?" it's Nora, walking in with Liza.
"Hey Nora, Liza. Looks like Fish Mooney's under government investigation. So we've all gotta wait our turn to get interviewed," Jack explains.
Nora nods, “Cool. So, what are we gonna do until then?”
“That’s a good question…” Jack muses, looking around the hallway.
“They moved the piano into the prop room. We’re all singers, right?” Liza suggests, her voice quiet but blunt.
We all walk into the prop room, filled with props and costumes, the piano at the very front. Ann sits down at the piano, and plays a D major chord.
“I didn’t know you play piano,” I smile at Ann as she begins to play a tune.
Ann gives a knowing smirk, “Girl, there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me,” she slides her hand across every key, “so, who wants to sing first?”
“Why don’t we give the new guys a chance to sing?” I suggest, turning to Nora, Liza, and Timothy.
Nora steps forward, “I’ll sing first.”
She leans over and whispers the song to Ann, who smiles back before playing the overture.
“Someday, my prince will come. Someday we’ll meet again. And away to his castle we’ll go. To be happy forever, I know,” Nora’s voice is light and beautiful, like that of an actual princess.
“Someday when spring is here, we’ll find our love anew. And the birds will sing, my wedding bells will ring. Someday when my dreams, come true.”
Everyone in the room claps, as Nora takes a timid bow.
“That was great Nora!” Ann nudges her, imitating an MC, “You got a prince you’d like to dedicate that song to?”
She chuckles nervously, “My boyfriend, Victor.”
“Awe,” Jack presses his hands to his heart.
Ann turns to the two remaining contestants, “Liza, wanna go next?”
She twirls her thick black hair, staring at the ground, “Uhm...could someone sing with me?”
“Sure,” I offer, “I’ll sing with you.”
She nods, before whispering a song to both me and Ann. We all nod together, before Ann plays the slow prelude.
“What ever happened to pure dealings, and fine ethics, and nice manners?” Liza begins, “Why is it everyone now, is a pain in the ass? Whatever happened to class?”
“Class,” now it’s my turn, “Whatever happened to ‘please, may I?’ and ‘yes, thank you’ and ‘how charming’. Now every son of a bitch, is a snake in the grass! Whatever happened to class?”
“Class,” Liza repeats, and we sing together, “oh, there ain’t no gentlemen to open up the doors. There ain’t no ladies now there’s only pigs and whores. And even kids’ll knock you down so’s they can pass. Nobody’s got no class!”
Compared to Nora’s voice, Liza is just okay, her voice slightly raspy and wispy. She could be good, but Nora clearly has more talent and practice.
“Every guy is a snot,” I speak-sing.
“Every girl is a twat,” Liza responds.
I smirk, “Holy shit.”
“Holy shit,” she repeats.
“What a shame.”
“What a shame.”
We end together, “What became, of...class?”
The room gives us applause, not quite as much as Nora of course, there’s no way we could’ve topped her.
“Okay Timothy, you’re our closing act. Give it all you got!” Jack encourages his friend.
Timothy chuckles, “All right.”
She whispers the song to Ann, and she plays the overture. He opens his mouth, lifting his chest…
The door flies open and the men in gray suits barge in, “We’ll be questioning all of you now, one at a time.”
We all sigh, before following them out into the main restaurant area.
“It’s too bad we didn’t get to hear you sing, Timothy,” I remark.
Jack wraps his arm around Timothy’s shoulder, “You need to hear this guy sometime, he makes everyone want to sing and dance!”
Timothy chuckles, “That may be true, but no one cracks jokes like you, Jack.”
Jack lowers his head in embarrassment, “Oh, don’t make me blush.”
“Will you two please get a room?!” Ann cries.