by Lisa Yee
Somehow Barbara now knew this was where she belonged. She was sure of it. At her own school she was often made fun of because she was so smart. Sure, there were a few nice kids there. But at Super Hero High, no one ever mocked another’s special abilities. Not even Cheetah or Star Sapphire, who were known to make fun of others behind their backs.
Alone in her room, Barbara tried to come up with ways to address her father’s concerns. As police commissioner, he was well aware of the evil that was out there. And as a part-time instructor at Super Hero High, he often told Barbara about the danger the Supers were in. Dinner conversation included stories of mishaps, mistakes, and mayhem, which only fueled her desire to go to Super Hero High.
“Big Barda tossed her Mega Rod so hard it destroyed Parasite’s supply shed.”
“The Flash was running so fast he crashed into the Vehicle Creation class garage, putting several prototype spacecraft, motorcycles, and cars out of commission.”
“Bumblebee got nicked by Supergirl’s laser eyes and has sustained an injury.”
“Aliens showed up and tried to take over the world…again!”
“I’d never want anything bad to happen to you, Barbara,” her father said one night as he passed the meat loaf. It was one of her favorite dishes. “It would slay me.”
Barbara just nodded and played with her mashed potatoes.
Barbara knew she couldn’t argue with her dad’s feelings. She also knew he couldn’t argue with facts. Employing complex computer graphs and charts featuring a matrix of statistics to support her argument and supplemented by state-of-the-art videos, she worked deep into the night.
The next day was Saturday. That afternoon Barbara invited her father into the living room. Her presentation took over an hour, and as Commissioner Gordon sat in his favorite chair nodding, neither smiling nor frowning, Barbara piled fact upon fact and reason upon reason as to why she should be allowed to go to Super Hero High.
“All personality tests confirm that it would be beneficial for me to attend….My test scores would go even higher in the competitive environment….My high-tech skills can help the Supers, and in turn help the world….”
And so on, until finally, when she was done, Barbara smiled. How could her father possibly say no now?
“No,” he said. “Babs, you know I’m concerned about your safety. Who will protect you if I’m not around?”
“I can protect myself,” she insisted. “You don’t trust me!”
“I do trust you,” he argued. “It’s the criminals and villains I don’t trust! And who do super heroes fight? That’s right—criminals and villains!”
“Arggggggh!” was all Barbara could think of to say. Her father was beyond frustrating. Had he not heard anything she was saying?
“I’m going for a run,” she said, heading to the front door.
“Be safe!” her father called after her.
Starting off at a full sprint, Barbara didn’t slow until she had gone about a mile. A star athlete as well as a scholar, she wasn’t even out of breath. The music on her phone helped her even her pace. In the distance Barbara could see Mr. Luna’s Auto Village and Car Wash. Everyone knew the car dealership with the TV commercials featuring the moon-faced owner shouting, “Mr. Luna moves cars—and cleans them, too!”
On the lot there was an oversized bouncy castle under a canopy of colorful helium balloons to attract customers. As she neared, Barbara could see a handful of kids gleefully jumping up and down inside the castle, laughing and squealing with joy.
Suddenly, the squealing turned to screams. Barbara whipped around, and her eyes grew big at the sight of something wrapping cars in cocoons, some with people still inside them.
“Run!” Mr. Luna shouted, his normally pale face turning redder with each heavy step. “RUN!” he yelled. “It’s Killer Moth!!!”
Barbara gasped. From behind a pile of cars, a giant green moth with red wings rose into the air. Wielding a powerful blaster of some sort, he destroyed cars as if they were toys. As he flew toward the bouncy castle, Barbara froze. The children! They were still inside!
In a heartbeat, Barbara ran over to them. “Get out of here,” she ordered, helping them down from the castle. “RUN! I’ll distract him.”
The children were gathered safely in their parents’ arms as Barbara climbed to the top of the castle. “Over here!” she yelled to the super-villain. “Come get me!”
Killer Moth jerked his head around, his beady eyes narrowing in on her. He flew toward Barbara, his wings whipping up a windstorm and dislodging all the balloons. Undeterred, Barbara began jumping up and down to gain momentum, then launched herself off the bouncy castle toward the car wash. Killer Moth batted away the balloons and followed as Barbara reached into her micro Utility Belt and took out her tools, tucking a flashlight into her boot. With lightning speed, she reprogrammed the car wash’s controls so she could access it through her phone.
“You’re looking kind of scruffy!” she yelled to Killer Moth as she stood inside the car wash, daring him to come after her. When he raised his gun, she turned on her high-powered flashlight, knowing that moths were attracted to light, and then flung it onto the car-wash tracks. With Killer Moth momentarily distracted, Barbara picked up a pressure washer hose and knocked the gun out of his hand.
Angered, the insect-villain dived into the tunnel of the car wash. Just as he was about to wrap Barbara in a cocoon, she nimbly leapt aside and pressed a button on her phone. Instantly, a torrent of water from multiple nozzles blasted Killer Moth.
“You’re all washed up!” Barbara called. She quickly tied the stunned villain to the conveyor track so that he moved through the tunnel like a car about to get cleaned. “I’ve programmed the car wash to take care of pesky insects like you!”
Killer Moth was dragged through the first cycle. He was hit by gallons of water from every direction.
“I’ll get you!” he growled, as giant rubber scrubbers came down and began to buff him clean. “Hey, I’ve got soap in my eyes!”
Sirens wailed, getting closer and closer.
The neon FINISHED! sign blinked on and off as Killer Moth came out of the car wash trapped in wax. Never had he looked so squeaky-clean. Mr. Luna and the others broke out in applause as the police swooped in.
“Barbara!” It was her father.
Commissioner Gordon wrapped his daughter in his arms. “I’m so happy you’re okay,” he said gently. “Killer Moth is a super-villain and doesn’t care who he hurts.”
“Dad—” Barbara started to say.
“Your safety means the world to me—”
“But, Dad—” she tried again.
“There are bad people out there, Barbara, and I aim to keep you and everyone else as safe as possible.”
“Excuse me,” Mr. Luna said. His round face was back to its normal color. “Commissioner Gordon, not only can this girl take care of herself, but she saved us all!”
Commissioner Gordon looked around. Everyone was nodding, then began to applaud again as Barbara blushed.
“Y-you captured Killer Moth?” her father sputtered.
“Someone had to,” she said. “People’s lives were in danger. I was just doing what you would have done.”
His forehead wrinkled with concern. “I have to deal with that right now,” Commissioner Gordon said, pointing to the police van in which Killer Moth was thrashing around. “Barbara, you could have been seriously injured. Or worse. We’ll talk tonight when I get home.”
That night Barbara made dinner. Spaghetti, her specialty. She added fresh sliced mushrooms from the farmers’ market and plenty of crushed garlic—just the way her father liked it. Then she topped it with a generous portion of Parmesan cheese. For dessert: triple chocolate cake from Butterwood’s Bakery, something they both loved. She had gotten it to sweeten the deal for her pitch to attend Super Hero High.
Silence settled over the dinner table, neither of them wanting to be the first to speak. Finally, Commissioner Go
rdon put down his fork and wiped his mouth with a napkin before setting it back down on his lap.
“Delicious dinner.” Barbara smiled, but inside she dreaded what he was going to say next. “You could have gotten hurt.” Both knew he wasn’t talking about the spaghetti.
“You told me that,” Barbara reminded him. “But, Dad, I didn’t. Instead, I saved a lot of lives.”
He nodded slowly.
“You worry about me being able to take care of myself, when I can do even more than that. I can take care of others, too.” Barbara’s voice began to rise. “You’ve brought me up to believe that public service is the noblest job a person can have. All I’m asking is to try to be part of that. Training at Super Hero High gives me the best chance in the world to test my skills. Please, Dad, please, can I go?” Barbara stopped. She looked directly at him. “Principal Waller believes in me. Why won’t you?”
Her father winced. “I do believe in you, Babs,” he said. “I always have. I always will.” He exhaled as if he had been holding his breath for years. Perhaps he had been. “Tell you what,” he continued, sounding resigned. “You’ve proven yourself today, so how about we give Super Hero High a chance?”
“POW!” Barbara cheered, leaping from her chair and hugging him tight.
Her father began to chuckle, then said, “If it doesn’t pan out, you could be a crisis negotiator. You are certainly persuasive. No, wait—too dangerous.”
“DAD! Thank you!” Barbara yelled. She felt as if her heart were going to explode from happiness.
“All right. Calm down,” he said. “Of course, there will be a few rules.”
Barbara nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, yes, anything!” She could not believe he’d changed his mind!
Her father pulled a notebook from his pocket and began to write. “You will have a three-month probationary period,” he began. “I know there will be bumps and bruises. Super Hero High can be tough at times, with all the physical and weapons training, and I can’t keep you out of harm’s way completely. However, if at any moment I think you’re in real danger, I reserve the right to pull you out and send you right back to Gotham High.”
Barbara nodded. That sounded fair. But he wasn’t done yet.
“Here are the ground rules,” he began as he wrote them down:
1) If you can’t handle the workload or your grades drop—you’re out.
2) If you develop an attitude—you’re out.
3) If you don’t keep me informed about everything—you’re out.
“Additionally, you are to continue living at home. Even though you may be training to be a super hero, you are still my daughter, and I want you here with me. Is this clear?”
Barbara nodded, unsuccessfully keeping her happiness in check: she was going to Super Hero High!
“Well,” her dad said, looking glum. “Is there anything you want to say?”
Barbara lit up. “Yes,” she said, looking like she was going to make some new, even wilder request. The she grinned and added, “Let’s have cake!”
Barbara devoured her chocolate cake, but when she reached for a second slice, she noticed that her father hadn’t even touched his first piece. What was he so afraid of? she wondered. She’d be just fine—better than fine.
“Barbara reporting to Supergirl. Supergirl, do you read me?”
Her wafer-thin com bracelet crackled before she heard “Oops, ouch! Sorry! Sorry.” There was a moment of silence, followed by a loud thud, and then Supergirl’s voice came in. “Hey there, BFF. I flew too fast and The Flash was running too fast and we had a major collision. But we’re both okay. At least, I think we are. He looks sort of wobbly. What’s up?”
Barbara could barely contain herself. “I have big news, but I want to tell you in person.”
“I can’t wait!” Supergirl said. “See you soon!”
Barbara walked over to her closet. Her heart raced as she took out the simple black costume Katana had made for her. When she slipped into it, she stood taller and felt stronger. She stared at the mirror, not recognizing the girl looking back at her. Who was that? The longer she stared, the more evident it became. Finally, she said in a clear, strong voice, “Barbara Gordon…I’d like you to meet Batgirl.”
That night, Batgirl had trouble falling asleep. Nights were always a comfort to her, being wrapped in the darkness when the world was quiet. But she had a lot on her mind, naturally. She loved that her best friend, Supergirl, had come up with her super hero name.
Batgirl.
It was perfect. After all, she had her B.A.T.—aka Barbara-Assisted Technology—tech equipment and she loved, loved, loved bats! They were so unassuming and underestimated, flying through the night undetected. Cozy in their caves. She knew bat wings are thinner than bird wings and have more bones, allowing the animals to maneuver more accurately. And because of their echolocation, they can listen to the echoes of sound to locate and identify objects in the dark. How awesome was that?
Batgirl sat on her purple bedspread and looked around the room. There was a poster of Rear Admiral Dr. Grace Murray, who invented the compiler, the program responsible for translating English into computer language. Batgirl hoped that one day she could create a new code or formula that could benefit the world. On another wall were diagrams of space hovercrafts and prototype B.A.T. gadgets and weapons. On her desk were several computers of various sizes and powers, which she had modified herself. And on her nightstand was a framed photo of Barbara sitting on her father’s shoulders when she was little. Both had wild, happy smiles.
Batgirl thought about what the next three months would entail. She was an A++ student, but maneuvering through Super Hero High would be the hardest test she had ever taken. She opened her desk drawer and reached past the miscellaneous high-tech tools, wires, and electronic panels, then pulled out a worn red leather diary. On the cover, embossed in gold with stars surrounding the letters, was her name: Barbara Gordon. There was a small silver lock on the side. So old-school, but Batgirl loved the quaintness of it. Taking a key from around her neck, she unlocked it.
The first entries were in a childish scrawl. Her father had given her the diary on her seventh birthday. “For important things you want to say or remember,” he’d told her.
The first entry read: Dear Diary, Daddy gave this to me. I am seven now, practically all grown up. But when I’m a real grown-up, I want to be just like him and be a crime fighter!
As the years passed, there were entries about awards and honors, and slights from others at school. There was misunderstanding and heartbreak. The one thing that remained steady was her determination to fight crime. If anything, this desire grew stronger with each passing year.
Batgirl picked up a pen and looked at the photo of her and her father. Then she turned to a fresh page and wrote:
Dad has finally agreed to let me attend Super Hero High. Now that this is really happening, I realize that, in a roundabout way, it is something I have dreamed about all my life.
I may succeed, I may fail, but I have to try. I need to know what I’m made of and how I can help make the world a better place. I have the best role model in the universe, my father, and I hope that one day I can honor him by following in his footsteps, fighting crime, evil, and injustice.
Despite all her facts and figures, Barbara Gordon is a dreamer—but now Batgirl has the chance to make that dream come true.
She closed the diary and left it on her dresser, along with the key. After all, the diary said Barbara Gordon on the cover. She was now Batgirl.
Batgirl whipped around when she heard the crash. Supergirl had flown into the Statue of Justice and was now putting it back on the pedestal. “Is it crooked?” she asked.
“Looks good!” Batgirl said, tilting her head sideways.
Supergirl flew over to her. Her cape fluttered, as did the laces on her red high-tops. Batgirl smiled. Her best friend might have been the strongest person in the world, able to stop comets and missiles and super–bad guys, but she c
ould never remember to tie her shoes.
“What’s the big news?” Supergirl’s blue eyes sparkled in anticipation.
“Oh,” Batgirl said, trying to sound casual. “Not much. It’s just that you’re looking at THE NEWEST STUDENT AT SUPER HERO HIGH!”
Before she could say anything else, Supergirl was hugging her tight—a little too tight—and jumping up and down.
“You’re…c-crushing m-m-e!” Batgirl croaked.
“I’m sooooo sorry,” Supergirl said, letting her go. “But I’m so excited!”
“Me too,” Batgirl said, rubbing her shoulder and laughing.
“Is there some news?” Bumblebee asked as she landed in front of them. She prided herself on being well-informed.
“What’s this, a little party?” someone purred. Cheetah was standing nearby watching. Her eyes narrowed.
Katana joined them. “What’s going on?” she asked. She unsheathed her sword and casually trimmed the top of an overgrown bush.
Soon Cyborg and The Flash approached, and in a nanosecond, Wonder Woman and Hawkgirl flew over.
“What’s happening?” Harley asked as she cartwheeled into the middle of the crowd. She turned on her camera.
“Tell them!” Supergirl squealed. “Batgirl has an announcement!”
Harley beamed as she pushed the camera right into Batgirl’s face and yelled, “Action!”
Before the school bell rang, Harley’s Quinntessentials already had the scoop. As Harley bounced around, her pigtails springing with each jump, she held the mike and gushed, “Yes, you heard it here first: there’s a new hero on the horizon at Super Hero High, and her name is Batgirl!”
“I’ll go with you to the principal’s office,” Supergirl offered. “Bumblebee can check you in. She works there in the mornings.”
Katana examined Batgirl’s costume. “If I had known you were going to be wearing this all the time, I’d have made it better,” she said.
“It’s great the way it is,” Batgirl said, adjusting her mask.