Birds of a Feather (Oswald Cobblepot)

The Long Con

   Oswald and I run into the apartment building, the both of us laughing hysterically. He wraps up his umbrella as we ascend the stairs, water dripping from our clothes and shoes. I should be freezing from being soaked in rain water, but with his arm around me, I find comfort in the warmth from that alone.

“Oh, I wonder what Mother will say when I tell her-” there’s a wild screaming coming from Oswald’s apartment, and Oswald races to the door and pushes to open. However, the hinge on the door is stuck, and he can’t open it all the way. I gently push him aside before backing up just a little and kicking the door open. His mother is on the floor, sobbing,

“Ozzy, my dear son, I’m sorry, but I couldn’t stop them-”

“What’s wrong Mother? What happened?” he asks, running to her side.

“Those evil men came again, they demanded more money, I, I didn’t have any money and they took the tea set and the silverware and my wedding ring…” she suddenly notices Oswald’s drenched clothes, “Oswald Chesterfield Kabelput, what happened to your clothes? Was it those bullies again?”

He shakes his head, “Oh no Mother, it’s something good for once, I got a job.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” she brushes some water off of his suit, “my little boy, all grown up,” she turns around and sees me.

“You! You harlot, you’ve caused this! Those men wouldn’t have come for more money if you hadn’t given it to them!”

I frown, there’s no use arguing with her. I cross my arms and start walking up the stairs to my apartment. Oswald holds out his hand in protest, “Trixie, wait…!”

I scurry up the stairs before I have to respond to him, my head bowed down in embarrassment. Yes, Mrs. Cobblepot’s accusations are...hysterical at best, but it’s probably best if I left the situation. I unlock the door to my room, and almost step on a small manila envelope on my way in. I bend down and pick it up, guess the building doesn’t have any mailboxes. Upon closer examination, I smile, immediately recognizing the chicken scratch writing in a dark green ink. Good old Ed, always replying to letters right away.

“Ozzy, don’t tell me you’ve fallen for that cheap floozy upstairs!” Mrs. Cobblepot’s shaky voice comes through from below.

I roll my eyes, great, I can hear them.

“Mother, you don’t understand! Don’t you know what it’s like to be in love-”

“Hasn’t my love been enough?” she silences her son, “I’ve done all that these old bones can for you, dressed you, fed you...and this is how you repay me?”

I change into my nightwear of an oversized t-shirt and running shorts as I continue to listen in on their conversation.

“Mothe...Mom, there’s something you need to understand. I don’t love her.” he confesses.

Well, this is...interesting.

Mrs. Cobblepot gasps, “Why, why of course son. But then, why do you keep her around?”

There’s a devilish chuckle from Oswald. I squint my eyes together, I always liked his laugh.

“She’s useful Mom, I used her to get a job at a nightclub. She’s my key to the top.”

I grit my teeth as I sit on the worn bed in my room. I glance to my bedside where my knives sit, the blue details swirling in the dull, yellow light. Instinctively, I grab one of them, twirling it in my hands, before forcefully sticking it into the wall, letting the blade dig into the old wood of the building.