TOC Part 1 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
JOURNAL ENTRY #2
EARLY DECEMBER, 1993
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Not much really happened for the first few weeks after I joined up. I started training. Alan made a suit in my size. I met the kids' pet pig, Socrates. I taught the kids' pet pig, Socrates, to stay away from me. Dudley came up with a name for the group — The Steel Shadows. I wasn't too happy about the Superman reference, but I decided that as long as I was getting what I needed from them, I didn't really care what they called themselves. I went back up to the surface a few times. Told Bibbo I was moving, but I'd keep in touch. Oh, and I met Gina, Aymee and Inez's mother.
She'd heard that there was someone new working at "day care," and she wanted to meet me. So, one night, at the end of her shift, I went topside. Bobby arranged for us to have dinner at one of his restaurants. Nothing too fancy, but good food. We were seated in a booth up front, in a corner behind the door. It was oddly placed, but it gave us a little more privacy.
Sitting across from her, I was kind of surprised to realize that she wasn't a bad looker. Her kids were cute enough, I supposed, but I'd never really thought about their mother. She'd had a hard life, that was plain to see, but underneath that, she cut a nice figure. Not that I was looking that much, but it made being sent up to ease her suspicions (something that hadn't really been in the job description) a little less bothersome.
"So what did you do before, Tommy?" she asked me at one point. "You don't seem like the type for day care."
"I used to work on the docks," I admitted. "But the union went on strike, and well... I guess you could say I was down on my luck." I stopped myself, realizing that I didn't really want to talk about it. "What about you, Gina?" I asked. Thankfully, she seemed to understand.
"I work at the diner all day. It's not easy, but I take home decent pay. It's for love, really. After the whole thing with the kids, I realized that you've got to hold on to what you've got in this world. The girls and I, we've got each other, and that's a lot. So, whether I'm ready for single motherhood or not... for love of my kids, I'll give it a shot."
I stared at her, fascinated by her intensity. She noticed, suddenly, and trailed off, blushing. "I'm sorry," she said, looking away. "I didn't mean to..."
"No, it's okay. I know what you mean. Sometimes... you live for the fight when that's all that you've got." It wasn't quite what I'd meant to say, but it seemed right, somehow. She looked back at me, then, and we saw it in each other's eyes. A mutual understanding of what we'd both survived.
Then some kid walked by outside, his stereo blasting out an old Bon Jovi song, and the moment was broken.
We stuck to more casual topics after that. After dinner, we went our separate ways. I returned to life in the sewers, which, somehow, had started to feel like home.
Comments Part 3 ("Livin' On A Prayer" lyrics copyright (c) 1986 Bon Jovi)
