“Wh- What?!” the fetching funeral director stammered as she straightened. She whirled to see an elderly man, wearing a hat, holding a gun on her. “Commissioner Gordon!?”
Batgirl could hardly believe her ears. ‘I must be hallucinating!’
“That right, Ms. Jolly.” In his other hand he held a small tape recorder. “I’ve got enough evidence to convict you – on several counts!”
“You have no right to be in here!” Jolly declared. “You had no probable cause!”
“I beg to differ,” the Police Commissioner began as he produced a pair of handcuffs and proceeded to put them on the suspect after forcing her hands behind her back. “I, er, just happened to observe the Batgirlcycle parked outside. I waited for almost an hour before entering. I’m sure the judge will rule it was reasonable for me to suspect Batgirl was in danger.”
The Commissioner pushed Jolly to one side. “Now, don’t make a move,” he warned. He then began to undo Batgirl’s restraints.
“Thank you, Commissioner,” Batgirl said as she slid sideways off the table, doing a sort of sit-up to land ungracefully on her feet.
“You’re welcome, Batgirl,” James Gordon said with a warm smile. “It’s about time I was able to help you for a change.”
Batgirl smiled fondly at her father. “You help me, all the time.” The word, “Daddy,” was left unsaid.
The Commissioner turned to the crestfallen funeral director. “Come along. I’ll take you to Police Headquarters personally.”
Defeated, Jolly started to let herself be led out of the embalming room. Suddenly, she stopped and turned back toward Batgirl.
“Are you familiar with Southern Pacific by Carl Sandburg? If not, I’m sure Gotham City’s chief librarian could recite it for you.”
Both father and daughter did a double-take.
Later that morning, at the Gotham City Library, a tired Barbara Gordon located the 1918 collection of 103 poems written by Sandburg entitled Cornhuskers. With trepidation, she read the thirtieth poem in the book.
Blithery sleeps in a house six feet long.
Blithery dreams of rails and ties he laid.
Blithery dreams of saying to Huntington: Yes, sir.
Huntington,
Blithery, sleep in houses six feet long.
Barbara closed her eyes, took a deep breath and returned to her duties.
A Very Batgirl Halloween by Zepolmas
The Jolly Jester Makes the Scene by twof
Batgirl: Day of the Dead by Trent Wolf
More Fearsome than You Know by twof
Fright of the Scarecrow by twof
The Man from History by Mr. Deathtrap
Guides Batwoman’s Destiny by Mr. Deathtrap
Catwoman’s Utility Belt by twof
Her Presence Is Keenly Felt by twof