Birds of a Feather (Oswald Cobblepot)

So, Talk to Me

   I find Oswald sitting by the open windowsill in the hallway outside the apartment, looking out into Gotham’s dark night sky. Beside him is a small paper bag of bread crumbs, which he tosses to the pigeons on the window detail outside,

“A...a dove sometimes comes by...and, and perches on my finger.” he mumbles, turning slightly behind him, acknowledging me.

I sit beside him on the windowsill as he continues to feed the birds, the pigeons pecking away at the seed.

“None of the other birds will perch on my finger. If I try, even hold out my finger for a moment too long without any food...they’ll start pecking at my finger...even biting me.” he pulls his hand away and packs away the seeds as a smooth white dove flies in among the grey pigeons. Oswald holds out his finger ever-so-slightly, and without hesitation, the dove hops onto his finger. He strokes it gently with one of the fingers of his other hand as he carries it through the apartment window, “Mother doesn’t understand...I don’t need love, just...companionship. Understanding.” he looks down at the dove’s talon-like feet, one of its legs slightly bent, “You know how I know this is the same dove? When it first came to me, I broke its right leg, see?” he points the slight bend in the leg.

I remember seeing an empty bird cage in his room, but I still have to ask, “Why?”

His expression becomes stern, accentuating the dark shadows under his sunken in eyes, “Because, it was going to leave.” he looks back down at the bird, “I tried keeping it, but eventually the wound healed, and...it flew off. But it always comes back...it always does.”

“I wonder why…” I sincerely ask myself.

“What do you mean?” he responds, looking up from the bird.

He catches me off guard, I had no idea he heard me. I decide the truth is the best route, “Well...if you hurt someone like that...why would they ever want to come back to you again?”

He shrugs, reaching his hand out the window and pushing his finger slightly so that the bird is bumped off, flying into the night, “...it’s just a bird. You think too much into things sometimes.”

I shrug back, “It’s kind of my thing. Got me into a lot of trouble when I was in school.”

He blows at his black bangs, letting them fly up above his head, “Ugh, don’t even get me started on school.”

“Why? You seem like a pretty smart guy.” I figure.

He blushes, smiling, but his smile quickly fades, “That...that was sort of the problem. You see, I went to Gotham Academy-”

“No way, Gotham Academy?! That fancy rich school out by the city limits? Wow, Oswald, you are one lucky guy.”

He grins, before continuing, “Yeah, of course I couldn’t actually afford it, I’d won full scholarship to the school. Mother was so proud, I’d been home schooled up to that point, and I remember her combing my hair back on my first day, kissing me on the cheek, wishing me good luck. But when I got there...I...realized for the first time...how different I am from everyone else.” he looks down at his hands, “How...scrawny...how, pitiful I must have looked to them. The new boy at school...short, small, with a long nose. I couldn’t play sports...I didn’t know any of the popular singers or their songs and nobody...no one appreciated my strengths. But, as I got older, I started meeting girls, I started...liking girls. If I ever found a girl I liked I’d bring her home, introduce them to Mother. She’d always disapprove, but it didn’t matter, they were all the same.”

“How so?”

He chuckles, “They were never interested in me. They thought that since I went to Gotham Academy, I’d come from money. Boy, were they ever surprised when I showed them my modest home. Most of them wouldn’t dare step into the door. Eventually I stopped trying.” he leans his head down, “I...I’m sorry, I’m talking too much about myself. Where are my manners?” he turns to me, smiling broadly, “Tell me, what was it like as a child for you?”