Welcome back, Smirky!!!!
I have only a little time, sorry, so you will have to excuse me that this will be short. But I'm amazed at your ability to write dialogue so that every little word counts, and every little gesture and glance and interspersed thought. How long have I been waiting for Clark to tell Lois his secret, Smirky? I bet I started asking you for that around chapter 15 or something, and now we are up to chapter 43. Well,
something has certainly happened since I started pestering you, because Lois has figured out Clark's secret on her own, but she hasn't told Clark that she knows, and Clark has not volunteered any information. On the other hand, Lois's way of looking at Clark has changed enormously. She used to be so dismissively contemptuous of him, as if he really didn't matter much at all. But, oh my, how that has changed. This is amazingly beautiful:
Kal-El's dark eyes watched her with some nervousness, perhaps hiding some dark fear lurking behind the shields of his glasses—bracing himself for a torrential outburst from the insensitive Lois Lane, even while that ridiculous farm boy, hopeful crush shone out of his eyes.
How could someone's eyes hold so much?
How could she have looked into them and seen so little?
Kal-El's dark farm boy eyes with their ridiculous, and heartbreaking, hopeful crush on her shining out of them... oh, Smirky, you almost make me sniffle.
And then you had Lois and Clark talking, and dancing around the subject, and sort of preparing to launch themselves into a blurting out of the truth - well,
Lois was preparing to launch herself into a blurting out of the truth - and it went on like that for so long, and I was on the edge of my seat all the time, and in the end, nothing happened. But I'm not disappointed. I'm in awe of your writing instead, and how you make me feel that every little move, every little word and every little thought counts for something.
I was moved and fascinated by Lois and Clark's meeting with Mrs Logram and her children. Okay - sorry to have to break the "narrative" of this FDK with this little observation, but I can't tell you how much I loved it:
Though not quite, though Lois had to admit that she did sneak a peek towards his shoes, which were firmly planted on the ground.
How in the world did he fly anyway? Was it like some Peter Pan thing? Did he have some sort of happy thought that carried him into the skies?
Well, they have really never explained
how he flies, you know? I haven't seen the episodes, but I firmly believe there is one where Clark has amnesia and can't remember that he is Superman - and what is worse, he can't remember how to fly. I believe Lois keeps pushing him down from the balcony, only to see him crash again and again and land hard on his invulnerable butt...
But Clark doesn't fly here, even though he knows how to. Instead he is being Superman while appearing to be Clark, in order to get a little girl (and a cat) down from a tree:
“It's all right, I'll get you,” Clark said, easy lifting himself up to the branches. It took him only a couple seconds to climb up to the girl and reach her at her precarious perch. “Whew,” he said, feigning tiredness. “You're a good little tree-climber, to get up here all alone,” he said, sitting beside her on the thin branch that Lois was sure should have long since broken beneath his weight, if . . . “Want to come on down with me now?” he gave an easy, comforting smile.
Superman's smile. Lois had seen it a thousand times—seen it coax terrified victims from cliffs, from burning buildings, from shattered vehicles . . . and had never recognized it on her partner's face.
He was in his element. There was no sign of the bumbling, awkward reporter right now.
The girl stared at him out of big black eyes, her two short black braids quivering slightly. Lois was sure that, charm or not, Big Blue was just about to get rejected.
Then, without warning, the little girl let go of the branch and eased herself into Clark's waiting arms, wrapping her arms around his neck.
Lois didn't scowl. Really—she didn't! She'd been wrong before, after all.
I love how confident and confidence-inspiring Clark is here. Like Lois said, there is no sign of the awkward, bumbling reporter now. And I love how Lois does not resent the little girl's confidence in Clark.
This was adorable:
“To your rooms, you two, now,” Mrs. Logram ordered, her tone brooking no nonsense.
Mike hunched towards the house, stomping heavily on the damp ground. Julia, however, hesitated, looking at Clark. Without warning she moved forward, dropping poor Zupie and wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him with all the strength she could muster. “Thank you, mister . . . ” Her young face reflected confusion. “Wha's your name?”
“I-I'm Clark,” Clark said. “You'd better head up to your room, like your mom says.”
“But I like you.”
Lois put a hand over her mouth to hide her grin.
Clark gave Mrs. Logram an apologetic look, then bent down and ruffled Julia's dark hair. “I like you too.”
It reminds me of something I read somewhere - "dogs and children took to him". That last quote wasn't from a story about Superman, I'm sure, but - well, isn't it a measure of
goodness that children and animals trust you, and their trust in you is not misplaced?
Then tere is something about how you describe Mrs Logram:
Clark didn't know. But she felt like a nice person, at least in first impressions, which didn't help him know how to feel about this whole situation. She was a bit on the plump side, seeming almost grandmotherly despite the younger age of her children, with open eyes and her graying hair pulled back into a loose ponytail.
You actually made me think of Martha here, Smirky. Martha could not have any children at all, and Mrs Logram could only have one child. Both adopted and proved themselves to be loving mothers to children who were not their biological offspring. Both Martha and Mrs Logram are a little old to be mothers, and just a tad grandmotherly. And both have been recently widowed.
I was moved by the story of Julia and her leukemia. I agree with Patrick, of course - Logram was involved in some dangerous research, whose consequences he couldn't foresee (and one of those consequences turned out to be that he himself was murdered and ruthlessly ripped away from his family), but for all of that I feel some sympathy for him. And I feel a lot of sympathy for his wife and children. Bottom line, I can't blame Logram for taking dangerous risks in order to save his daughter.
Well! Lovely chapter, and it's great to have you back, Smirky!
Ann
