Birds of a Feather (Oswald Cobblepot)

Mother Knows Best

   As soon as I’ve cleared the window I’m down on my knees, my head to the ground to avoid inhaling smoke. I shuffle through the hallway, and halfway through, I spot a piece of sky blue cloth in the corner of a door. Pulling it out, I wrap it around my mouth and nose for extra protection. Somewhere else in the apartment, the sound of collapsing wood and screams are heard. It sounds like it’s coming from downstairs. I make a beeline for the staircase, leaping off of my knees and running while still keeping my head low. I race down the stairs, and at its foot, I’m greeted with two young boys, one hardly older than a toddler. The eldest is crushed under a pile of debris, while the younger one is scrambling in vain to free his brother, pulling off what little pieces of charred wood he could carry.

I approach the situation carefully, not wanting to scare either of the boys. The oldest notices her, and points so that the younger one turns and sees me too. Not knowing what to say, and wanting to save my breath as it is, I silently stride to the boy and help his brother lift off the wooden boards covering his companion. I notice that both boys are coughing heavily, black smoke practically swirling up from their mouths. I lift the two up and make for the fire escape window. But just as we make it down the hallway, the roof above us comes down, knocking out the floor by the escape. I turn around with the boys, and the first few coughs escape me as by breath becomes wheezy. My chest becomes heavy as I make my way down the stairs. The building creaks and I turn my head up to see the wall above us come crashing down. Holding the two boys under me, I make a run for it, although a large wooden board still hits my back, smashing into two before falling to the ground. The sting on my back from the falling projectile stays with me, compiled with my gasping and coughing until I make it out the door. I release the two boys, and they scurry off into the streets, leaving me to collapse to the ground. But, just as my head is about to connect with the concrete steps, two pale hands catch me by the head. My entire body is then shakingly lifted, as the two hands that can just barely handle my weight attempt to lift me up by my back and knees. I cough up a fair amount of smoke before I manage to speak,

“Put me down...I...I can walk-”

“No, no, you’ve done enough. Let me carry you.” Oswald insists, his voice warm and comforting.

I smile at him, “You’re gonna drop me.”

“...I’ll manage.”

I look back at the burning building, “Where are we going anyway?”

He sighs, “Well, Mother does like you, and after what you did, I’m sure she won’t have a problem with you staying over for a while.”

I want to protest, as much as he thinks his mother likes me, she clearly doesn’t. But before I can, he reaches out with one hand to comb his hand through my hair, but this causes his support to slip, and I hit the ground, landing on my posterior. He reaches down to help me up, and I take his hand, smirking, “Told you you’d drop me.”

   Mrs. Cobblepot walks through the door from her trip to the food line and sees me by the stove,

“You...you’re suppose to be gone!”

I turn around, still wearing Mrs. Cobblepot’s old dress, combined with a frilly apron, my hair up, and and rag wrapped my head, “I know Mrs. Cobblepot, but you must understand-”

She sniffs the air, “...is that...beans?”

I back away from the stove to reveal a pot burning on the stove, “You see, when Oswald and I got back to my room, the entire motel was aflame and-”

She places her plastic bag full of canned tuna and presides over to the stove, lifting open the pot, “Beans…” she sniffs again, “And...and all this other stuff, tell me young lady, what is this dish?”