Note: before we begin this chapter, a disclaimer. It might get some people calling me a snowflake, disrespectful to the source material or whatever, but Catwoman is black in this universe. Why? The answer is simply that I feel as though comics could use more diversity. In my defense, there have been a couple of black Catwomen in professional (OK, 2004's Catwoman movie was only technically professional) media adaptations. Besides, race isn't particularly important to this character. There's no cultural uniqueness to a poor girl who grows up having to steal to survive and becomes a world class thief. Without further ado...
Selina Kyle's perspective, eighteen years ago:
At the age of nine, Selina Kyle was already living a very hard life.
Her mother, Maria, had died in childbirth. She and her husband, Brian, couldn't afford a decent operation. Factory workers like Brian and waitresses like Maria are paid thanklessly little. So while death by childbirth was extremely unlikely under normal circumstances, the chances rose to barely realistic with Dr. Roberts, the cheap, bad surgeon who Brian and Maria had no choice but to turn to. As poor Maria's luck would have it, she "beat" the odds.
Obviously, Brian had mixed feelings about the birth of his daughter, Selina. He had lost one loved one but gained another. Having to raise a child on his own, Brian spent as much time as possible on Selina. Brian taught the growing girl black culture, any part of her education that school had missed, how to get around in Gotham City, and, at a remarkably early age, how to take care of yourself when home alone. Brian couldn't consistently afford a babysitter and you can't count on help in the ghetto, since hardly anyone in that part of town is without problems of their own, so he had no choice but to leave Selina home alone.
Or almost home alone for by the time Selina turned five, she had adopted her first pet cat, Cleo, named after the Egyptian Queen with the same name. Selina seemed to have taken after her mother, at least where love of cats was concerned. And a good thing for Selina, too; a child needs company in the hours after school when daddy is still working.
A few months after Selina's 9th birthday, she heard knocking on the door of her ugly, smelly apartment. It was a pair of policemen. "I don't know how to tell you this," said one, "But your father..." "What about him?" asked Selina. "He's dead," said the other. Selina may as well have heard that the Earth was about to collide with the Moon. "He was... drunk," continued the second policeman. "We tried to stop him from driving under Jack Daniels' spell but he attacked. We had no choice."
You must understand that a child's mind is very vulnerable to fear and panic. This was all it took. Selina immediately bolted out of the apartment before she felt sure she would've been shot dead herself. The officers were in pursuit. "We didn't mean for it to happen," assured the first." "Don't be a fool," said the other. "You need a guardian." Selina felt that she had to get away or what happened to her father would happen to her.
Selina ran into an alley. She knew what she was doing. The barrier up ahead had a gap that an adult couldn't fit through, but Selina could. She ran a couple more blocks away to officially lose her pursuers. Because she had separated the cops from their car, she was clean away. She could take a breather.
If you love your pet and have earned his/her love, chances are you won't lose that pet if either of you can help it. Sure enough, Cleo came by. Smiling, Selina picked up, petted, and basked in her purring. This made Selina feel a little better about how her life had suddenly changed but only a little. "Thank you so much," whispered Selina. "You're all I have left."
She stopped and thought. Should she had ran? She wanted to believe that she shouldn't have because the alternative was a life on the run. Only one complication: she doubted her daddy had actually drank and attacked the police. He was extremely self-accountable and believed strongly in right and wrong. Selina did not believe him to be capable of irresponsibility, let alone attack officers just for trying to help.
But Selina did believe that this unfair society was capable of murdering her father. Already it had forced a mother she would never know to rely on an incompetent doctor. This was why that mother of Selina's was no longer with us. Selina was also getting old enough to understand Gotham's dirty little not-so-secret: it had one of the most corrupt police forces in all of North America! Selina felt certain this was the policemen's fault. What the details actually were, the story does not tell.
What Selina could know for sure was that Cleo's belly was growling. Selina had hardly ever fed the cat. Brian had. But dead men don't feed. Selina had no money to buy cat food with. She saw a man passing by. There was a bulge in his side pocket. A wallet? Selina carefully walked behind him.
One thing gave Selina pause. She knew that her parents would never have approved. But then, they had been killed by society. A society that now hunted Selina. If she wanted to be free, she had to steal to survive. Do it. Using the hand skills that she had developed playing Jacks and sports with other children, Selina successfully took the wallet from the man's pocket without getting his attention. Now Selina could buy cat food.
Upon feeding Cleo, Selina knew that whatever path her life was on had changed when the boys in blue came to her apartment. She had chosen a life of crime. Corrupt society or not, she still had doubts. But she pushed those doubts aside. She couldn't trust the cops. Not after they'd killed her father.
Batman's perspective, present day:
Batman answered the beaconing call coming from the rooftop of GCPD HQ. Unlike the other time, Commissioner Gordon was facing him. "I prefer facing you when you come," said Gordon. "Better for my heart. We're getting complaints from the wealthier civilians about a new cat-burglar." "Back up a second," interjected Batman. "Are you asking me to prioritize crimes against the wealthiest people over those against the common people?" While Batman was one of the richest people in the world, his late parents had taught him to have respect for the less fortunate who nonetheless keep society going with their blood, sweat, and tears. There was a reason he had come to see Alfred as almost family.
"First of all," said Gordon, "I don't appreciate the allegation. We depend of the businessmen to keep this city going. We have enough problems with a strong economy. I've done a great deal to cut back on corruption in this city's police." Batman could not accept that apology but realized that police corruption was indeed not as bad as it had been a year before. He let Gordon continue.
"Second, this is no ordinary burglar. Nobody's gotten a good look at him but he seems to dress in black leather and have a mask with cat-like ear protrusions. We call him The Cat."
"A literal cat burglar?" asked Batman. Gordon nodded. "So I've been plagiarized," realized Batman. "He may not have much imagination," cautioned Gordon, "But he seems to be a perfect thief. He's left no clues. Somehow, he's avoided more than vague sightings even on security cameras. I realize that catching him with nothing to go on may seem impossible, but I don't want the PR backlash from the socialites in penthouses if we can't convince them that we did our best." "I will certainly do my best," assured Batman.
Upon returning to the Batcave, Batman looked over the bad camera shots and estimated drawings of The Cat Gordon had handed over. "I take it I should be glad I didn't choose a security job right now?" asked Alfred. "Gordon was right about one thing," Batman explained. "He's good. Never makes a sound. Never gets out of safe areas even a microsecond longer than necessary. Wears a mask, fully clothed, shockproof gloves in case of electrical barriers protecting what he's stealing, Swings on a whip and uses metal 'claws' on his fingertips to open locks. So he's armed and dangerous while still having plausible deniability on that extra charge."
"Why do you always get the easy missions, sir?" asked Alfred. "I just do," Batman played along. "One consistency in these robberies is that they're usually happening in high-priced penthouses and the occasional mansion." "Surely all you have to do is listen for news of the next robbery," Alfred suggested. "Since he's not rich enough to afford anything that can compete with the Batmobile, you should be able to catch up."
"No," disagreed Batman. "Knowing him, he has sense enough to stash normal clothes somewhere. If it takes more than minute for me to catch up, The Cat could vanish from the face of the earth! But I do have an idea of where his next robbery might be. He seems to be doing this on Mondays and Thursdays. Daniel and Marcia le Blanco recently purchased a very, very nice diamond necklace. They live in a penthouse called Ivory Gotham. I think that's where The Cat will go next Thursday."
"Two days from now," noted Alfred. "I have done all my work for today. It seems you have as well, Master Bruce. Chess or a movie?" "How is it possible that you helped raise me yet still don't know me that well?" asked Bruce. "Ever since my parents died, Chess doesn't feel the same; movies don't look the same. The only fulfillment I get anymore is from protecting the innocent and frightening the guilty." Batman thought some more. "Well, I guess I do have at least some happiness when going out with Christie but we don't have a date arranged. But all that being true, I still have down time to waste. Make it a movie. Go ahead and choose which one."
The big night finally came. Batman was hiding in a shadow on the ground and a good distance away from Ivory Gotham. While going unnoticed was ordinarily as easy as sticking to rooftops and being careful about moving between them, The Cat seemed to be no ordinary thief. Sure enough, Batman eventually caught sight of a person sneaking around to the penthouse.
Using his Batscope, Batman was able to see that this was someone in black leather, a mask with two protrusions up high that looked like cat ears, and a pair of red nightvision lenses attached to the mask that could be moved onto the forehead or over the eyes, depending on which this person chose. More than 90% probability that this was the suspect. Even though the shape of the body said that The Cat was not a man but a woman.
Batman watched as the person he had mentally renamed The Catwoman climbed up to the suite of the le Blancos, carefully extracted a glass segment from a window with her claws, entered, and climbed back down to the ground with a diamond necklace around her neck. She was walking the sidewalk, presumably to where she planned to change clothes. Batman couldn't wait any longer. He stealthily followed until he was close enough to throw a Batarang at her. But at the last second, Catwoman turned around, stretched and bent her right leg for a provocative dodge. "Too bad, so sad," she taunted. "By the way, Batman, I really think you should keep those eyes off my legs."
As Catwoman stood up, Batman asked, "How long did you know I was there?" "Before I came to this rich people's apartment," explained Catwoman. "I'll save you the trouble of asking why I came anyway. I want a fun game." "One that involves copyright infringement?" asked Batman. "Highest form of flattery," said Catwoman, fleeing.
The chase was on! Unfortunately, Batman had discovered the way to escape a freak athlete like himself: get an even better pair of legs. For Catwoman was rapidly pulling ahead. Didn't look like even Jesse Owens in his prime could have caught her. Batman needed a Plan B. He used his Batgrapple to get on a higher perch from which to swing around. This allowed him to catch up. He saw Catwoman take a quick look back and, thinking that Batman had been left in the dust, chuckle. Before long, Catwoman had ducked into an alley. Batman was literally looking down on her from above. Catwoman turned around to wait and see if Batman found her. After a couple minutes she said, "I expected a challenge."
That was Batman's cue.. He dropped down in front of Catwoman and said, "So you'll have it." But Catwoman hadn't lost her playful smirk. "As a girl, I'd rather fly than fight," she explained, "But I can and will enjoy kicking wingspans and taking names." Batman doubted that was more than an idle threat from someone who couldn't weigh much more than one hundred twenty. Still, he assumed a fighting stance just in case.
His caution was warranted as he staggered back from a hopping knee strike under the chin that he hadn't even seen coming. A follow-up snap kick quickly but harmlessly struck the kevlar covering Batman's left hip. But Catwoman's right boot snapped up again across Batman's jaw. Since that turned Catwoman around and she seemed to have some martial arts knowledge, Batman figured a side kick with the left leg was coming. Batman caught the boot but Catwoman leaned down and pressed her hands against the floor to get good enough balance to start sending her free boot into Batman's chin. Batman had been caught in his own trap and fell to the ground after the fourth kick.
The moment Batman got to his knees, he felt a claw strike across his left cheek and grunted. He log rolled away just before Catwoman's other hand would have clawed the other cheek but the damage was done. Batman's cheek felt like it was burning in four places.
"Aw, poor Batman's been injured," said Catwoman. "Thanks for letting me know," Batman pointed out that Catwoman had told him that was bleeding badly. "Believe me," said Catwoman, "Pleasure's all mine."
Batman needed to get some offense going, especially now that he was bleeding. He advanced towards Catwoman and tried a jab-jab-cross combo that was easily dodged and countered with a maneuver behind Batman, knee to the buttocks, and step in front to set up a reverse elbow. Batman backed up and was felled by a jump kick.
"Nighty-night," declared Catwoman as she lifted her boot over Batman's face to cave it in. Instead, Batman caught the boot in his hands again. This time he didn't wait for a counterattack. He dragged Catwoman down and started swinging her around in circles by the leg, the force and kinetic energy overwhelming her. Batman finally let go, launching Catwoman into a dumpster, head-first! Catwoman immediately began screaming and panting in agony. Ordinarily, Batman wasn't above inflicting non-fatal injury on criminals, even women. Somehow, he felt as though he should say, "Let me see how bad I hurt you" and did so. He stood over her to get a good look at the head that just met rusty metal. Sure enough, Batman saw even with the mask that Catwoman was bleeding through a cut in her forehead. The payback check for the claws to Batman's cheek had been cashed.
Suddenly, Catwoman's hands grabbed hold of Batman's ankles. Before Batman fully realized this, he felt a sharp pain in his groin. Catwoman began laughing as she struck Batman's balls two more times with her right knee. Three hits to a man's weakest spot were too much. Batman fell on his left side, clutching his aching balls and moaning. As close to a scream in pain as you can get from the hardy, mentally tortured Dark Knight.
Despite the pain, Batman had enough presence of mind to look around to see what Catwoman's next move would be. She drew a whip out of a side holster and took a practice crack. Batman could see from that crack that Catwoman was skilled with a whip. Like Batman's luck was going to change. He got up and prepared to defend his bloody face because that was where Catwoman would aim. Instead, the first lash hit the chink in his right knee, stinging him. She'd figured out Batman's armor. Not good.
The next two lashes hit the right elbow and left shoulder. Next came a fake-out to the groin before the whip looped around Batman neck and dragged him to the ground. Obviously, there was also strangulation. "If only your macho fans on social media could see you now", gloated Catwoman, stepping on the whip to increase pressure. "But seriously, I've won. You're looking at gagging to death or a broken neck. Give up. C'mon, don't make me be a bad girl."
Batman's answer to that was to slowly stand up, oblivious to the crackling in his neck from pulling against the pressure. Hadn't broken yet. A swift pull on the whip with all the strength he had left launched Catwoman towards him to be kicked aside. This gave Batman a chance to get the whip off his throat. Of course, that left him tired, breathless, and certainly unable to stop a roundhouse kick from decking him.
Catwoman winded up to get the whip around his neck again. Batman countered by drawing a Batarang and throwing it just in time to sever the whip. Catwoman backed up with three handspring backflips. As Batman got back up, he realized that his never coming up with an answer to Catwoman's speed was what had gotten him dominated that night. Had to counter it or Batman was done.
Perhaps instead of trying to run with Catwoman, Batman should try to defend against Catwoman's speed and counter. She charged but this time Batman didn't try to beat her speed. Two kicks and a claw strike were blocked before Catwoman was decked by a right cross. Catwoman got up and kicked high. Batman ducked and delivered two body blows that had her staggering back. Time to attack her confidence. "The prison guards will beat you worse than this," said Batman, playing a mind game. Sure enough Catwoman charged forward to strike with her claws. But Batman caught both reckless arms by the wrists and twisted them. Catwoman grunted in pain. A headbutt to the wounded forehead had Catwoman on her back. Batman had come back from near oblivion!
Batman dropped down onto Catwoman, holding the shoulders in place while closing Batman's own legs to protect his still-sore balls. "Nice comeback," complimented Catwoman. She took off her right glove and began gently stroking Batman's cheek scratches. Suddenly, they, and for that matter, Batman's balls, no longer felt like they hurt much. "Feel better?" asked Catwoman. Batman was taken aback. He was actually asking himself whether he wanted to leave this woman for the police or take her to the Batcave.
Catwoman seemed to realize that Batman was being worn down and smiled. "One good turn deserves another," requested Catwoman. "How about a hard - but not too hard - rub on my forehead." Batman froze. "It's just a rub." She then groaned in pain. Batman knew Catwoman was probably faking it but a hand began rubbing the mask over her forehead. Catwoman took off her other glove and put both bare hands on Batmans face. "Thanks," she said leaning in to kiss.
At the last moment, Batman turned Catwoman around onto her stomuch and began tying her up with a Batrope. "Pussy," said Catwoman. Actually, this was a hard thing for Batman to do. But he had to. He doubted Catwoman returned his feelings. She was only trying to take advantage of them. Besides, she was a criminal and the law was the law.
After using a nearby pay phone to call the police, Batman waited. He usually wouldn't but Catwoman might escape before the officers arrived.
Tied up and hanging by a lamppost, Catwoman pointed out, "You know you want it." "It's not gonna happen," said Batman. "Why," asked a persistent Catwoman. "Because I'm black? Guess that bitch at Gothic Report is right." Actually, that woman by the name of Christie Whitlock was one of the reasons, but Batman couldn't say that. "It's the careers and you know it," he said. "I know plenty of burglars and drug dealers who have good relationships with cops," tried Catwoman. She didn't give up. The police had arrived at this point. "Last chance to change your mind," Catwoman smiled at him. Batman's answer to that was to walk away and never look back.
Catwoman's perspective:
So much for romance. Batman had almost gone for Catwoman and she kind of liked him but that ticket out of jail hadn't been punched.
Now she was in the care of two cops, one young and black, one middle-aged and white. A shot from the older one's pistol dropped Catwoman from lamppost to the sidewalk. She tried to get up and hop away, knowing it couldn't work and was tackled by the younger cop. "You have a right to remain silent," said the older one. "Anything you say can be used against you in a court of law. You have a right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided to you at no cost to yourself."
The young cop began stroking Catwoman's right shoulder. "This is one fine, fine lady," he said. The older cop chuckled. "Wanna feel her?" asked the younger one. "I would," said the older one. "But my wife finds out everything, and I'm not goin' down that road again. Besides, I need to tell headquarters that we got The Cat and that 'he's' a woman." As he walked away, Catwoman said, "If you let this pervert do this, you're both gon' be in big trouble!" "Who are they gonna believe?" asked the cop. "Two members of Gotham's finest or a thief we caught with someone else's diamond necklace?" "I was really hoping you wouldn't ask that," Catwoman admitted in defeat. She had been reminded of why she disliked society.
As the older cop walked to his car to contact headquarters, the younger one was kissing Catwoman's right shoulder and moving up to the cheek. Catwoman hoped he was having a good time, because he was too lost in hormones to notice Catwoman arms wiggling out of the ropes, and the other one was preoccupied.
Catwoman was turned around so she was looking up at this lusty cop. "Time to open the present," he said. But Catwoman's arms were free and picked the pistol out of the cop's holster at the exact same moment that he began pulling on Catwoman's mask. He stopped upon feeling the gun in his face. "Untie the rest of my ropes," said Catwoman." "You can't get out like this," bluffed the cop quietly. Catwoman cocked the gun and pretty soon the cop had freed her.
Getting up, Catwoman whispered, "To the side of the car. And no warning your partner... or else." The cop did so. Now to deal with the middle-aged one. She moved in position to shoot the other when he came out of the car. When he did, Catwoman said, "Throw your gun this way, please." The demand was granted and both cops raised their hands.
"This is all your fault!" accused the older cop. "My fault?" protester the young cop. "You took your eyes off her and wanted to do it, too." "Shut up," commanded Catwoman. "As far mama's concerned, you're both disgraces to the force." The asshole cops had gone from cocky to angry to scared. Their fear was yummy.
"Are you gonna kill us," the older cop asked, weakly. "I'm thinking about it," said Catwoman. It wasn't like they'd tried to rape her or anything. At the end of the day, she had a heart. But that didn't mean she wouldn't try to punish them in another way. "I don't know who I'd rather screw with," she said. "Little boys like you or real men like Batman. You're just bugs to squash. What's the point? But Batman beat me and I really don't like to lose." "Get used to it," suggested the young cop. "Nobody can beat The Batman." "He had to come back from the beating of his life," Catwoman informed him. "There ain't no moral victories," said the older one. "Shut up," ordered Catwoman. "Throw your keys away and cuff yourselves to that car door."
That took care of those crooked cops. And Catwoman still had the necklace around her neck. Wasn't her prettiest victory but as that cop said, a win was a win. She dashed into the alley where she'd left her clawed gloves and retrieved them. She would replace the broken whip in the morning. She was already looking forward to her next meeting with Batman.
Batman's perspective:
An unmasked Batman was had an ice pack under his scrotum and was having his left cheek stitched up by Alfred. "A very dangerous feline you caught, eh Master Bruce?" the butler asked. "Yes," said Batman. "But she's in jail by now with her cover blown and assets seized." "Then all's well that ends well," concluded Alfred. "Probably," said Batman. "It's just that... I had a hard time turning her over to the police."
"I won't pretend to not know the reason."
"She tried to seduce me, Alfred."
"Sounds like she succeeded," figured Alfred. Batman's heart sank as realized that this was true. A weak part of him wanted to free Catwoman and take her home.
"If Madam Christie found out Master Bruce were attracted to a criminal?" wondered Alfred.
"She'd torture me to death for three days," explained Bruce. "After a long speech about how she'd been right about Batman all along."
Selina Kyle's perspective:
Catwoman had returned to her apartment. Her roommate, Sabisia Brown, was still there. Sabisia was a longtime friend of Selina Kyle's. They had met at the age of fourteen when both were in juvenile hall. They escaped together months later and Sabisia, while an amateur criminal, had helped Selina prepare for her jobs ever since.
"Daaamn," explained Sabisia. "What happened?" "The Batman happened," explained Selina. "Get me some ointment and cotton." I'll change. And so Catwoman did. After a quick change in her bedroom and a washing out of her mask, she was Selina Kyle, who seemed to be just another poor black girl.
Sabisia applied the ointment and cotton, the latter of which was tied to Selina's forehead with cloth. The best friends sat together on the couch and Sabisia asked, "So he beat the shit out of you like he does to all the others, then?" "Actually, I beat the shit out of him for awhile. Then he came back just as I was about to choke him to death with my whip! Even then, I had him mentally undressing me."
"Men," said Sabisia. Selina laughed. "Just before he wouldn't have been able to take his hands off me, he turned me over to the police. Fortunately, they were dumb perverts so I'm still here."
"Is he as cute as the rumors?" asked Sabisia. "Maybe cuter," said Selina. "I don't really know. The upper part of his face could be gross for all I know."
"So what's next?" asked Sabisia.
"First things first," prioritized Selina. "I have to sell the necklace to The Still Lips." You couldn't sell a diamond necklace to a regular store without raising questions of how you got it. "Then I prepare for round 2."
"I dunno," cautioned Sabisia. "He did get you tonight."
"Barely," admitted Selina. "Besides, The Catwoman plans to cheat. The Still Lips should be willing to help rid this town of their greatest threat. If they'll let me, I'll finish seducing him to our side of things." Selina gestured with her right hand as though she were were holding a baseball. "His heart's gon' be in my hand, one way or another!"
To be continued...