The Tenth Justice - Brad Meltzer [64]
Slapping his hands together, Ober said, “The theory is based on the idea that your whole life can fall apart in one bad day.”
“And how does this relate to Batman?” Lisa asked skeptically.
“Think about how Bruce Wayne became Batman: His parents were shot to death in front of his eyes. On that day, he lost his entire life and had to become something different to stay sane. Same thing with Robin—his parents died on the trapeze. Now think about the villains: The Joker fell in a vat of acid and was betrayed by those he trusted. Two-Face was hit with a vial of acid. In the movies, Catwoman was pushed out of a window and the Riddler lost his job. All it takes is one bad day to step over to the side of obsessive madness.”
“That’s a wonderful theory, but there’s one flaw,” Ben said.
“And what’s that?”
“It’s that THOSE PEOPLE AREN’T REAL! THEY’RE COMIC BOOK CHARACTERS!” Ben yelled, sending Nathan and Lisa into hysterics.
“So?” Ober asked.
“So, I’m not that worried about whether I’ll want to get myself a Bat-a-rang or become Gotham City’s newest villain. For some silly reason, I don’t think your theory applies to real life.”
“You say that now,” Ober said, “but you have no idea what tomorrow will bring.”
“You’re right,” Ben said. “I may not know what tomorrow will bring, but I’m pretty sure it won’t be a cape and a utility belt.”
When Ben, Nathan, and Ober returned home, they found Eric sitting at the dining-room table, writing. “Where were you guys?” he asked, putting down his pen. “I was starting to get worried.”
“We were—”
“Nowhere,” Ben interrupted.
“Ben, can you just stop it?” Eric asked.
“No, I can’t just stop it,” Ben said, walking into the kitchen to get a drink. “You started it, and now you have to deal with it.”
“I said I’m sorry. What the hell else do you want?”
“What do I want?” Ben asked, pouring himself a glass of cold water. “Let’s see: I want trust. I want respect.”
“Forget about it,” Nathan said, taking a seat next to Eric. “Everyone just go to bed.”
“Oh, and Ober,” Ben said, “I don’t appreciate you telling my mother about Eric’s and my argument. It’s none of her business.”
Ober sat on the couch, leafing through a magazine. “I just said it was a tiny disagreement.”
“Now why did you have to tell my mother that?” Ben asked. “Was that really necessary?”
“You know how she is,” Ober said. “She started grilling me on what was going on. She’s relentless. It was like she could smell that something was wrong. That was the only thing I said, though. I swear.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive. After that, I was strong.”
“Then why did she tell me that you also confirmed the rumor that I was sleeping with my co-clerk?”
A wide smile spread across Ober’s face. “That one I told her just for fun.”
“Thank you,” Ben said sarcastically. “Because of your idiocy, Lisa is now invited to my house for Thanksgiving.”
“She’s going to your house for Thanksgiving?” Ober laughed. “She’ll be eaten alive there! Oh, is this great, or what?”
“You may want to tell Lisa to wear a bulletproof vest,” Eric said.
Shooting a scowl at Eric, Ben turned back to Ober. “Just wait until I get your mom on the phone.” Picking up the blue duffel that was at Nathan’s feet, Ben headed toward the stairs. “You may want to bring the straitjacket back from the cleaners, just in case.”
Chapter 9
AT NOON THE NEXT DAY, LISA ENTERED THE office and announced, “They postponed it again.”
“How?” Ben asked, looking up from one of over two dozen cert petitions piled on his desk. “It’s Saturday—the justices aren’t even here.”
“Osterman just called Joel from home. They still haven’t decided it.”
“Unbelievable,” Ben said. “What was the reason? Do they want to make Grinnell the most drawn-out decision in history?”
“They actually made the deadline next Tuesday.”
“They moved Conference from Wednesday to Tuesday?”
“Just for next week,” Lisa explained. “They wanted to make sure everyone had off the day before Thanksgiving, so it has to be decided by then.”
“That was nice,” Ben admitted.
“They have their moments,” she said. Lisa sat down on the sofa