Wrong Place, Wrong Time, Wrong Clark TOC can be found
HereWhere we left off in Part 86 …“Wait a minute,” Cat said, standing up with anger. “Clark phoned you last night and then disappeared, and you didn’t even think to call me? His
best friend! I told you I
needed to talk with him. I was worried sick, wondering why he wasn’t calling me. I had nightmares about what could have happened to him.”
What was with all these people worrying about Clark
before they knew he had vanished?
Spite rose up and emerged from Lois’s mouth, “You look it.”
Cat threw her a nasty, scoffing grin. “You, too, Mary Sunshine. Get any sleep last night?”
“No,” Lois admitted. “And by the looks of it, neither did you. At least, I used my insomnia to check every hospital in the city and call every snitch I know, not trying to get one last bang in before the end of the world. You may not trust Superman to save us, but
I do.”
“I trust Superman,” Cat returned. “And I’ll have you know I haven’t been with a man for over a week!”
The office quieted as every head turned their direction.
“It’s been by
choice!” Cat informed them.
“What’s the matter, Cat? Got the clap?” said one man.
“Chlamydia?” suggested another.
“Crabs?” tossed out a third.
“Genital warts?” asked a fourth.
“Nah, it’s just PMS,” Ralph called across the room with a knowing nod.
“One more word out of any of you, and you’ll be spending your last moments on Earth in a sexual harassment seminar,” roared Perry, coming out of his office. “Capiche?”
Lois’s jaw fell open. She had seen her co-workers come after her at the drop of a hat, but never Cat. The newsroom was still very much a men’s club. “Those guys are jerks,” she reassured Cat.
However, it appeared as if the comments didn’t faze Cat as she sat back down. “Those guys are resentful that I wouldn’t sleep with them even if it were the end of the world.”
“What is with everyone?” Lois demanded, slamming her fist down on her desk. “Superman
will save us. He has never let us down yet; he won’t now. He broke up the first asteroid, and when he learns about this new one, he’ll have no trouble dealing with it.”
“You were at the conference, Lois,” retorted Schwartz. “He’s disappeared, leaving us with a mess.”
Lois ignored Schwartz and focused on Cat, returning the conversation to between the two of them. “Superman’s vanished. Clark runs off from his apartment, leaving his front door open and leaving his winter clothes behind.” She gasped. Why hadn’t she thought of it before? It was so obvious. “Do you think Clark could be with Superman? Maybe Superman needed Clark to do something with him, or he’s injured… no, Superman can’t be hurt.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me in the least to find Clark with Superman,” Cat said, reassuring her. She shook her head. “What about the Kansas Kents? Maybe he…
they flew out there.”
“No, I spoke to Martha Kent this morning. She hadn’t heard from Clark either. Apparently, he was supposed to call her last night and didn’t,” Lois explained.
“Well, aren’t you the lucky one?” Cat mumbled snidely, under her breath. She thought for a moment. “Clark’s not with you. He’s not with me, and he didn’t go to that couple he’s adopted like parents. Are there any major disasters, natural disasters, we haven’t heard about? Superman would have thought that takes priority over checking in with EPRAD Control.”
They both turned their heads towards the monitors, quietly playing LNN in the background. The talking heads still seemed to dissecting the EPRAD press conference.
Part 87“No natural disasters, besides Nightfall,” confirmed Jimmy, who had been standing nearby, listening in on their conversation, unbeknownst to Lois. “I double-checked. I even checked for any meteor sightings, just in case the impact with Nightfall blew Superman back to Earth. Nothing.”
Lois smiled at him. “Thanks, Jimmy.”
“I know you’re worried about CK, and so am I,” Jimmy said, pulling a chair up to Lois’s desk and sitting down. “But don’t you think we should be searching every avenue for Superman, instead?”
“Same diff,” Cat murmured.
Lois snapped her gaze to Cat, who merely shrugged as if wondering why Lois was looking at her. Did Cat know about Clark’s ability to contact Superman? Had Clark told her? Maybe Cat
was Clark’s best friend.
“I mean,
he’s our best chance at surviving this thing,” Jimmy continued.
“All right, Jimmy. Other than what we’ve already done, what do you suggest?” Lois asked indulgently.
Jimmy’s eyes went round. “Um…”
Just as Lois thought. At least, she wasn’t the only one coming up dry. There were more paths to check to fill up the ‘waiting for answers’ time, searching for Clark than for Superman.
“How about we check with MPD?” Jimmy suggested. “Maybe someone there has seen CK.”
“Did that. Detective Wolfe was completely unhelpful; he told me that Clark couldn’t be listed as a missing person until tomorrow night, forty-eight hours after his phone message,” Lois explained. Jimmy opened his mouth, but she cut him off as she went on, “
And I had checked all the hospitals in Metropolis by 2 a.m.”
Jimmy shut his mouth again.
Cat rolled her eyes. “Clark will…” She coughed. “I mean, Superman will be found, when
he wants to be found, not before.”
“Who died and made you such a Superman expert?” Lois scoffed. “You might be friends with Clark. Fine, I’ll grant you that, but Superman? He’s
my domain.”
“Yeah, well, I’ll have you know…” Cat started before stopping herself, her lips pressed together and her hands formed fists. “Just because you think you’re the end-all be-all of journalism, missy, doesn’t mean that Superman and I don’t know each other. Who do you think covers him at all those charitable events? Me!”
“A psychic!” Jimmy exclaimed.
“What?” Lois and Cat sputtered, turning to stare at him.
“Ask a psychic!” Jimmy repeated
“You can’t be serious,” Lois scoffed.
Her own psychic vibe had said for Superman not to go on the mission because something terrible would happen to Clark, and, lo-and-behold, something had happened to Clark. Her psychic vibe had also told her that Clark should have been at that press conference earlier, so something was definitely wrong.
“Why not?” Jimmy asked.
Lois looked up at the ceiling. How could she explain to Jimmy how
very un-right this idea was without hurting his feelings? Just because she, herself, had these psychic feelings every once and while, didn’t mean she had faith in anyone who hung up a shingle and announced that they were ‘psychic’. This was
so Clark’s domain, but then again, if Clark were here,
he could just contact Superman. If Superman were there, he could save Earth, find Clark, and all would be right again. She pressed the heels of her palms into her forehead. Didn’t those guys know she had grown to rely on one or the other of them? If Lois found out that the two of them had gone off somewhere together without informing her…
“I know a psychic,” Cat said, standing up and moving towards her desk. “She’s amazing.”
“Yeah, right,” Lois said. She’d believe it when she saw it, and she never planned on letting that happen.
“She’s not one of those turban-wearing, crystal ball gazing, fraud psychics either,” Cat said, picking up her purse and heading for the coat rack for her fluffy snowball of a winter coat. “She’s just like you and me… well, more like me than you; although, she does ramble incoherently like you.”
“Have fun,” Lois said, shooing her away with the back of her hand.
Good riddance.“Can I come?” Jimmy asked, rolling his chair back to his desk. “I’ve always wanted to visit a psychic.”
“Jimmy! Photo lab on one,” Joe called.
Jimmy winced. “Right, Chief sent me down there to pick up the print for the front page,” he said, starting to skip backwards towards the elevators. “Tell me how it goes!”
Cat leaned over Lois’s shoulder and whispered, “She predicted Superman’s arrival.”
Lois glanced over at Clark’s empty desk and felt a pang in her heart. Would it be right
not to go? What if this woman did have a talent like Lois’s only knew how to control it better? If it would bring Clark back even more quickly, would it be worth the humiliation? She nodded. It would. Besides, it would better than sitting around the office and twiddling her thumbs. She stood up and picked up her briefcase. “Okay, but the one of us not saying ‘I told you so’ afterwards, buys at the Fudge Castle.”
***
Some photos in a manila folder landed on Bill Henderson’s desk. He glanced up at the uniformed man, Kolson, standing in front of him.
“What’s this?” Bill asked, refusing to look at the photos before knowing whether it was something that he should delegate. Kolson was one of those uniformed officers, bucking for a promotion, but he was also one of those men, who didn’t have the smarts to do a good job should he get it.
“This man was fished out of Hob’s Bay this morning, Inspector,” Kolson said.
“Another floater? These should be sent to Homicide,” Bill said, nudging the folder back to Kolson. It was nice to see that even with a huge asteroid bearing down on Earth, organized crime went on as usual. He returned to perusing the paperwork in front of him.
Kolson shifted on his feet. “I don’t think so, sir. This one feels different.”
“Different, how?”
“First of all, he was alive when he was pulled out of the water,” the man said.
This information was enough to pique Henderson’s curiosity to open the folder. His jaw dropped. With his slicked back hair, no glasses, and his face slightly blurry as he turned away, it would have difficult to recognize his friend, but Bill knew that tie anywhere. In the other photos, he was wearing a pair of dark sunglasses.
“Secondly,” Kolson continued. “He was found wearing broken handcuffs around his wrists. I got his fingerprints, but he’s not in the system. No one has reported losing a suspect either. He didn’t have a wallet on him, which could have been lost in the water or taken by an arresting officer with the rest of his personal…”
Henderson closed the folder and stood up. “I’ll handle this from here. Where is he?”
“Metropolis County Hospital,” Kolson replied. “I have the man under police guard.”
“Good,” Bill said.
The officer stood up taller at this apparent praise.
Let the rumors spread that a criminal was fished out of the bay. Perhaps it would keep Kent safe until they could find out whose toes he had stepped on to get himself into this mess.
***
Lois heard the jingle of dangling jewelry before the door opened and a pair of arms encircled her.
“Lois! What are you doing here? I wasn’t expecting to meet you for another year and a half,” a woman with lots of curls said, pulling Lois into her apartment. “You don’t need to go to Fudge Castle, later. I’ve got ice cream. For some reason, I felt the urge to buy a half-gallon of chocolate chocolate chip this morning. I should’ve known you were coming.”
“Do I know you?” Lois sputtered. It seemed like perfectly logical question, to which the answer was a definite ‘no’, yet…
“Oh, sorry. Star. Star Adams,” the woman said, holding out her hand. “I should’ve recalled that you wouldn’t remember me. We met in a former life. I must say between the short hair and this style, I do prefer this longer style. It’s cute. Although, I completely understand and agree with the reasoning behind why you’ll cut it short.”
Lois reluctantly shook the woman’s hand, while glancing over her shoulder at Cat with a look of what must have been absolute disbelief. “What?”
“Actually, former life doesn’t seem like the right phrase. Perhaps previous life works better since you were still you and not somebody else,” Star corrected herself and then shrugged. Then she noticed that Lois wasn’t alone. “Cat! What are
you doing here? How’s Mary? Out to here?” she asked, holding her hands out from her stomach.
Cat had explained to Lois on the way over that her sister-in-law had dragged Cat to this psychic a year before to find out when she, Mary, would conceive her first child. Mary had been determined that it would be on the honeymoon, and left in a huff from Star’s apartment when the psychic had predicted a later conception. Apparently, the only desire in the life of Cat’s sister-in-law was to be a good wife and mother. Despite having a supportive and loving family living in the ‘burbs, Lois understood why Cat didn’t get together with them very often.
“Yes, unless she’s gone into labor early due to Nightfall,” Cat said. “She’s not due until mid-March.”
Star waved such concerns out of the air. “Early babies are just fine. I was early, and look at me, right as rain,” she said with a grin, offering them seats in her living room before heading into the kitchen.
O-kay. Doh-kay. Not really a strong selling point. Lois leaned over to Cat and whispered, “Who
is this woman?”
“Star told me that if I had faith in myself and placed my trust in a stranger, I would meet a man who would not only change my life for the better, but change the entire world. Three months later, Superman arrived.”
Lois’s jaw fell open, but her brow knotted in confusion. “How had Superman changed
your life for the better? Which stranger?”
“Clark.” Cat smiled indulgently. “And, how has he not made everyone’s lives better?”
Touché. Star returned with two bowls of ice cream. She handed one to Lois.
“None for me,” Cat said, holding up her hand. “Thank you.”
“I know,” Star said, setting the other bowl on the coffee table. “This one is for me.” She sat down on the sofa next to Lois. “So, how’s it going with Clark?”
“Some psychic,” Lois mumbled.
“No casual conversation first?” Star returned. “You want to get down to brass tacks and… why do they call it ‘brass tacks’ anyway? Who would want a brass tack, when one could go and buy a regular one for far less money? Right? It doesn’t make any sense.”
That isn’t the only thing, Lois thought.
“They used to use brass tacks to make furniture,” Cat responded.
They both turned to look at her in surprise.
“Trust me, when you’ve been on as many leather couches as I have…” Cat’s voice faded away. “It’s not important.”
“So, Lois, I’m glad to see that you’ve already admitted to both yourself and to Clark that you love him,” Star said, returning her focus back on Lois.
Lois’s jaw dropped, and she heard a titter from Cat.
“About time! But then again, you’ve been in love with some version of him for…” Star paused to count something off on her fingers. “Almost four years now.”
Lois looked skeptically over at Cat before gazing at Star again. “Clark and I just met last year.”
Star nodded. “Right. This Clark.”
“
This Clark?” Lois stammered. Clark was the first and only Clark she had ever met. It wasn’t as if he had a common name like Michael, George, James, or Star.
“It’s not important,” Star said, and then nudged Lois. “And here you vowed you’d never fall for him. I told you he was a good man, didn’t I?”
“Do I know you?” Lois repeated.
How in the hell did this woman know such personal information about her? Was this some sort of set-up between Clark and Cat, who had fed this woman information, to get Lois to stop believing that her psychic feelings were real? No. Clark wouldn’t do that to her. She wouldn’t hold anything past Cat, but Clark would know that she would kill him if he tried a stupid stunt like that at any time during their relationship; actually, in or out of a relationship, he’d be dead meat.
“I’d take him if I could,” Cat admitted.
“Still in denial about Mr. Right, I see,” Star said to Cat with a disappointing shake of her head. She waved a finger at the gossip columnist. “You should be off having end-of-the-world-sex with him right now.”
Cat squeezed her eyes together with pain. “He’s married,” she whispered, and Lois realized that Clark had been telling her the truth about Cat having a crush on a man.
The room seemed to sway. Cat was in love? Oh, no, no, no! Wasn’t that up there with flying pigs? Did that mean that the end of the world was nigh? Something tugged on Lois’s brain about Clark telling her he had come to Metropolis to stop the world from ending. No. Clark had only been teasing. That hadn’t been real.
Lois took a bite of her chocolate chocolate chip ice cream and felt better. It was probably just low blood sugar. She really hadn’t eaten today.
“No, he’s not,” Star returned.
Cat nodded. “He’s in Barbados, as we speak, with his ‘family’.”
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry,” Star said, pounding away on her head with the palms of her hands. “I don’t understand it. Everything pointed to him being Mr. Right. Maybe you just thought he was the one, but he wasn’t.”
Cat shook her head.
Star faced Lois. “So, when’s your wedding with Clark? There was a moment at the beginning of the month when I thought you and Clark would be married by Valentine’s Day, but it was only a moment. What happened?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Clark and I have never been engaged,” Lois corrected this woman. Why was she even talking about her private relationship with this stranger?
“You
did go on a honeymoon on Valentine’s Day though,” Cat reminded her.
Lois shot her co-worker a glare.
Star rubbed her jaw in thought. “Hmmmm. Maybe that’s what I thought I saw.” She shrugged. “He’s everything you’ve ever wanted in a man and more, isn’t he?” she asked with a pointed look.
“Do I know you?” Lois said again.
“No, technically not, but you did. Normally I would say ‘you will’ but you have some major hurdles to leap before your future is clear enough to see which path you and Clark will take,” Star said by way of explanation. It didn’t make anything any clearer. Star patted her knees. “First things first, Herb’s wrong.”
Lois looked at Cat, who appeared as perplexed as she felt. Apparently, Cat had no idea who Herb was either.
“Who?” Lois finally asked.
Star knocked on her head with her knuckles this time, as if trying to shake her thoughts loose. “That’s not you? I was sure that message was for you.”
Lois gave Cat another skeptical look.
“Oh, and Cat, so are you.”
Now
that Lois could believe.
“About what?” Cat asked.
“Let’s get back to our reason for coming,” Lois insisted. They could be there all day if they had to cover everything Cat had been wrong about. “Cat said that you could help us find –”
“Superman?” Star guessed.
“No… well, yes, him too,” Lois corrected, becoming flustered.
How could I have forgotten about Superman? Well, of course, she hadn’t really forgotten him, all the way. She had merely set his disappearance to the side for now. She felt bad about that. Finding Clark felt more urgent somehow. Lois somehow knew Superman would return to save the day. He always did.
“
I’m looking for Superman,” Cat interjected.
“You’re always looking for a super man,” Lois retorted wryly. “We’re looking for my partner… for Clark.”
“Finding one will lead you to the other,” Star replied, taking a bite of her ice cream.
“Yes, I know,” Lois said.
“Do you?” Star quizzed, before shifting her gaze to Cat. “Does she?”
Cat shrugged. “I’m out of the loop.”
“O-kay,” Star said slowly. “He was lost, but now he’s been found. Just as you’ve been blind and soon you will see.”
Clark had been ‘found’ all right, by the bad guys, who kidnapped him. How exactly was this helpful? Lois pressed her lips together, trying to keep her cool. “I’m not blind.”
Star rubbed her head this time. “Really? Maybe you’re the wrong Lois.”
Lois turned to Cat. “Who
is this woman?”
Cat shushed her, and said to Star, “Okay, Clark has been found, but not by us. How will
we find him?”
“Confused,” Star replied.
“Perfectly,” Lois agreed, standing up. “You’re wasting our time. Time, I might add, that we don’t have much of.”
Star set a hand on her arm. “He loves you,” she said, speaking words for the first time that made sense.
“I know that,” Lois snapped.
“Do you? It means he would do anything to protect you, even if it means giving up his own happiness,” Star said. “Him protecting you is his way of telling you he loves you. Don’t stomp on that.”
Were they still talking about Clark? Or did Star mean Superman? And why, oh why, was Lois taking anything this woman said seriously?
“I would do anything to keep him safe too,” Lois replied, setting her empty ice cream bowl on the coffee table and heading towards the door.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Star muttered. “You will find Clark through a trusted friend.”
Gee, that narrowed down the list to…
nobody. “Thanks for the ice cream,” Lois called from the door, her arms crossed. “Are you coming, Cat?”
“In a minute,” Cat said, turning back to Star. “I’m sorry. She’s not a true believer.”
Star waved off Cat’s concerns. “I’m used to that. She never believes in me at first.”
Lois shifted her position, her jaw growing tenser.
“Now, for your role. It will be tough for you, but I know you can handle it,” Star said, setting her hands on Cat’s and staring at her. She lowered her voice, so that Lois had to strain to hear what she was saying. Even so, Lois didn’t catch everything. “He will… you… truth. Without your… he… to help us.”
“Me?” Cat hissed in surprise, pointing over her shoulder at Lois with her thumb. “Don’t you mean Lois?”
Lois stepped closer, hoping to catch more of this conversation.
Star shook her head. “You. You are… only… truth… Clark’ll need you… We’re depending on…”
Cat nodded. “Okay. I’ll do my best.”
Clark will need Cat? What in the hell did Star mean by
that? Clark didn’t need Cat. He needed her. Lois took another step closer.
“Be strong for him, Cat,” Star continued. “He’ll need you to step up to the plate and do the right thing, even if he tells you not to.” She patted Cat’s hands before letting go. “And if you stick with Lois, you’ll get what you’ve always desired.”
Lois jumped back in alarm.
Stick with me? Heavens, no! She didn’t want to stick with Cat.
“Lois?” Cat seemed less than thrilled with this advice as well.
Star shrugged as if there wasn’t anything she could do about it, because those were the facts. “You have to admit that she’s the best,” she said.
Maybe there was something to Star after all.
“Do I have to?” Cat groaned, standing up.
Gee, thanks, Cat; the feeling is mutual. ***
A tall thin man with round wire-rim glasses, and salt and pepper hair entered his hospital room. He didn’t recognize him, not that it meant anything.
He stared at the man, and the man stared back. He wondered if the man was another doctor. Although he wasn’t wearing a white coat, so probably not. He could be the psychiatrist. He had expected one after admitting to the doctor that he couldn’t remember his name. The policeman hadn’t believed him, and thought that he just didn’t want to tell them who he was, because of his criminal past.
He didn’t like thinking of himself as a criminal, a person who would or could hurt other people. On the other hand, the policeman was right. He
had been wearing broken handcuffs when they had found him during the night.
His fingers gently massaged his wrists where the cold steel had rubbed his skin. He picked up his cup of warm herbal tea. The doctor wanted him to drink lots of fluids. The hypothermia had dehydrated him. He glanced down at his arm where they were also administering the warm saline solution intravenously. He had massaging socks on his feet to keep his circulation up, a hot water bottle in a place he’d rather not admit to anyone, a hat on his head, and blankets up to his chin. He figured he must look as bundled up as a newborn. There was no TV or radio in his room as his mental stimulation was to be kept at a minimum due to his apparent concussion.
Frankly, he didn’t care who this man was. He welcomed the distraction from his thoughts before boredom drove him back to sleep.
“What’s up with the sunglasses?” the tall man asked.
“Bright light hurts my eyes,” he replied. The doctor said that it might be an effect of his concussion, but it was also a sign of his hypothermia.
The man nodded. “How are you feeling?”
“Better. Not so cold,” he said. They had slowly been bringing up his temperature, so his body wouldn’t go into shock. Thankfully, the doctor had said that, besides the hypothermia and the knock to the back of his head, they hadn’t found anything wrong with him. If he continued improving as well as he had, he could leave the hospital tomorrow. To where, he had no idea, but he hoped not into police custody. Although, that might be better than out on his own, alone.
“What were you doing out in Hob’s Bay?” the man asked.
He shrugged. That was one of those questions to which he had no answer. “Floating, mostly.”
A quick smile brushed the man’s lips. “I mean how did you get there?”
He shrugged. That was a blank. “I don’t know.”
The man shifted on his feet. “Hmmmmm. That’s not good.”
“Tell me about it,” he replied.
“What’s the last thing that you
do remember from before you were rescued?”
He closed his eyes and concentrated his thoughts back to when he was in the water. He tried to think of something, anything, from before then, but that part of his mind was dark. He shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Nothing?” the man repeated. “‘Nothing’ as in nothing about the attack? Or ‘nothing’ as in nothing, a blank canvas, zilch, zippo, nada?”
He looked up expectantly at the man. “Attack?” he asked with some hope. “I was attacked. Am I victim, not a criminal?” Then he realized that even criminals could be victims, and the hope dissipated.
The man pressed his lips together in thought.
“Do you know who I am?” he went on when the tall man didn’t speak. He hated it when nobody was speaking. He could hear the whirr and beep of the machinery but, other than that, silence reminded him that he had no memories to call upon, nothing about which to think, daydream, or re-live. He preferred the sound of voices to nothing at all, even if the person wasn’t really saying anything.
One of the man’s eyebrows rose with curiosity. “Who do
you think you are?”
His shoulders fell. The man hadn’t found out his identity. “Nobody,” he murmured, wanting to turn away from him and go back to sleep, but he had found sleeping on his side difficult with the IV in his arm.
“Well, I wouldn’t call you that,” the man said.
“That’s what I feel like,” he admitted. “A man with no past, a nobody.”
“You have a past, even if you cannot remember it. You’re definitely somebody. Let’s figure out who, shall we?” the man suggested.
“I’d like that,” he said. “This not knowing is very frustrating.”
“I bet.”
“What do you propose we do?” he asked the man.
The man contemplated that idea for a minute, before heading for the door but, instead of leaving, the man turned down the lights. “How about you take off those sunglasses and let me get a good look at you?”
Grudgingly, he lifted his hand to the dark glasses he had gotten from Reed. Even with the lights dimmed, he was afraid of the pain and headaches that he associated with removing the glasses, but if it meant finding out who he was, it would be worth a little pain. He took hold of black plastic frames of the glasses and lowered his hand. He blinked his eyes a couple of times, winced slightly, and then slowly relaxed, finding there was no pain. With the lights dimmed, the harshness didn’t seem to bother him. That was good. He focused his sight on the tall man.
The man gaped at him for a moment before shaking his head. The man lifted his hand to his hair and pretended to pull it off his face.
He gazed at him, wondering what he was doing, and then realized the man wanted him to mimic him. So, he did the same, pulling off the hat as he did so.
“Would you…” The man cleared his throat and pulled his own glasses off. “Please, put these on?”
He shrugged. It was an odd request, but if it helped identify him… He placed the man’s glasses on his face. The man appeared a bit more unfocused. Clearly, they didn’t share the same prescription.
“Hmmm. Interesting,” the man said, leaning forward to examine him. “Okay, I’m going to turn up the lights again.”
He switched back to the sunglasses and handed the man back his glasses. “Do you know who I am?” he asked, putting the cap back on his head. He felt better with the extra warmth.
“Well,” the man said, returning to the light switch. “Unless you have a doppelganger, you look exactly like an associate of mine, who was reported missing last night, by the name of Kent. Clark Kent.”
The room filled with light, but he felt as much in the dark as before. “Kent Clark Kent,” he repeated. That strange name meant nothing to him. He sighed. An epiphany to go along with the name would have been nice.
“No,” the man said with a chuckle. “Sorry. Just Clark Kent.”
“Oh,” he said softly. He felt his cheeks rise with a slight flush. He didn’t even recognize his own name. “Right.”
The man held out his hand. “I’m Inspector William Henderson of the Metropolis Police Department.”
His eyes widened in horror. “I
am a criminal then?”
Inspector Henderson’s chuckles subsided into a lazy grin. “Not unless you’ve been hiding something from me, Kent,” he said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and studying him.
Clark shrugged. “Even if I had been, I wouldn’t know that now, would I?” he said, shaking the man’s hand.
Henderson’s focus had shifted to Clark’s IV drip before returning to his eyes. “No, Kent, I guess you wouldn’t, would you?”
Clark’s brow furrowed. “I thought you said my name was Clark.”
“Sorry. I usually call you ‘Kent’. You call me ‘Inspector’ or ‘Inspector Henderson’,” Henderson clarified.
“Clark. Clark Kent. Mr. Kent. Mr. Clark Kent. Kent. Clark,” Clark said, trying on his name for size. It was okay, although, it seemed a bit loose as if it didn’t fit properly. It was only a name. It wasn’t really who he was, only what he was called. A name was only a part of what made up who he was, but it was better than nothing was. He saw that Henderson was still staring at him and shaking his head slightly. “How do we know each other, Inspector?”
“Well…” the inspector paused as if wondering if he should tell him the truth, before finally saying, “You’re a reporter with the Daily Planet; that’s a newspaper.”
“A reporter?” Clark echoed. None of this sounded familiar, not the job or the name of his employer. “What do you know about me?”
The inspector seemed reticent about divulging any information. “Off the record.”
“What?” Clark asked. “Do you mean, don’t tell anyone? Who would I tell?” He thought about that strange request for a moment. “Is there something about my life I wouldn’t want anyone to know? Have I been arrested?”
“Well, your fingerprints weren’t in the system,” Henderson admitted to Clark’s relief, but then the man returned to silence. “Forget I said ‘off the record’. It was just a joke.”
“Oh,” Clark replied. A joke he no longer got. “So you don’t really know me, do you? You just know who I am?”
“I do know you, only not that well. I don’t want anything I say to influence you, how you think about things, such as your job, or people, especially…” Henderson’s voice petered off, only to be replaced by what appeared to be a mischievous grin. “You should really figure those things out for yourself.”
Clark nodded. That made sense. Still, he felt as if he was missing something. The knowledge to whatever it was that the inspector had been referring, most likely.
“Let me make a few phone calls. I want Teri McCorkle to take a look at you. She’s our department shrink over at the Twelfth… er… Precinct, that is,” Henderson explained. “After she’s had a chance to examine you, and has given us some advice on your condition, we’ll figure out where to go from there.”
That made sense. At least, this man knew him and had a plan, which sounded better to Clark than just focusing on his physical health. He was more than just this man in the hospital bed. He was Clark Kent, reporter, and he was excited to learn all about himself.
***End of Part 87*** Part 88 Comments Appreciated.
