The Alfred Pennyworth Hour

June twenty-first, 1992

I feel as if I am writing a novel instead of an entry. Somehow, I wish it was. I know Master Bruce is capable of great things, but a superhero was never on my list, much less in my thoughts. And now he is going to don a cape of solitude instead of charity. Or perhaps both. Or neither. The news is still being processed. Despite the fantasy-like magnitude of the news, I still knew something was amiss. First of all, he seemed a bit more quiet, and not nearly as cheeky (God knows he does it because he loves me, as I do him). And he paced, just like his father did when he was nervous. I had to ask what was the matter, even though the chance was slim that he would actually tell me. To my surprise, however, he told me that he wanted to protect Gotham City.
So I said ignorantly, "God forbid you join the police force!"
He smiled at me and shook his head.
"Not the army!"
Master Bruce looked down at his shoes.
"Alfred, how long have you been working for me?"
"Too many to count, sir."
"Remember when I said that I wanted to take on the business father left for me, and you said that I was crazy?"
"Mad, yes. Pardon me for saying, Master Bruce, but is there a point to this?"
"Well, the choice that I'm about to make is even crazier!"
He held up a mask and a cape that he had asked me to make for him. If only I had known!
"Once I get a suit for this, Alfred, I'm going to find my parents' murderer and protect Gotham City. The police will be happy, and I'll finally find the wretch who did this to me! To them."
He nodded towards the painting of him at eight and his parents. The boy of brush was another person. His older doppelgänger gripped the cape and mask tighter in his hands. That was the first time that it crossed my mind that he wasn't joking. He would never kid about his parents.
"Master Bruce, I don't know what you mean. What are you trying to say?"
He looked back at me with blazing eyes, his teeth pressed together like a menacing nutcracker. He pointed to the painting, his parents looking a little sadder now.
"It's the only way, Alfred. I can't sit here and do nothing! Remember the secret escape route we have? It will be our hideout, and we'll find the criminals there!"
I was, in a word, aghast. My first thought was that Master Bruce had somehow kept a sickness from me and he was raving with fever, but he didn't look pale or diseased.
"Sir, what are you talking about? Why would you need a hideout? You sound like some sort of superhero!"
His face said it all.
"Master Bruce..."
"Yes, Alfred?"
"At least the company was realistic! You sound like you've gone...you've gone..."
"Mad?"
"Precisely! Besides, you'd be risking your neck every night! At least in the army you would have thousands of people to cover you! Out there, you have no one!"
Bruce looked at me, smiled, and said something that I will never forget, in all off my days of being a butler and a man.
"I have you, and if you can raise me and treat me the way you have all this time, you're all I need."
It took all of my dignity in employment to not bawl like a baby.
"Don't- don't think that that will give you my blessing! You need me to sew that suit!"
That's where the conversation ended. I guess I need to find my thimble.