CHAPTER 6
Clark’s Superman interview had not only won him employment, but had also to his private shame garnered him that year’s Merriweather Award for excellence in journalism. It had also won him the enmity of several of his co-workers who had worked on the same story to no avail over the past few years. One of them being “the girl” that Perry stated he had taken the chance on two years ago, Lois Lane.
Lois was also a graduate of MU, but despite their shared major Clark could only recall sharing one class with her and having only one fleeting interaction during a classroom discussion even at that. Classes at MU were so large that sharing a class meant about as much as not sharing one at all if the two people involved never had any direct interaction. Most journalism majors did some work for the school newspaper at one time or other during their time at MU, but Clark’s other “duties” had kept that to a minimum on his part so he had never encountered her directly there either. When Clark started at the Planet all he knew about Lois was through her reputation and through a single personal impression gained from brief observations during their one shared class. Clark knew that Lois Lane made him nervous.
The problem was that Clark didn’t know why she made him nervous. He was the single most powerful being on the Planet and had dealt with intergalactic invaders, heads of state, and power mad villains without batting an eye. The first time he had laid eyes on her he felt almost as if his mind had become separated from his body and he had difficulty making his muscles obey his mind’s commands. For a moment he was put in mind of the feeling he had when Lana Lang surprised him with a kiss after walking her home from school when they were 13. He quickly dismissed the idea because he had never even spoken to this girl let alone walked her anywhere and it was darned silly to begin mooning over a perfect stranger when he had other responsibilities to attend to. He promptly put her out of his mind and actively proceeded to ignore future sensations as they occurred when he saw her.
But, several years later sitting at his brand new desk adjusting to the fact that he was now a paid member of the news media he had reason to recall all of those encounters.
Clark Kent grew up in a world of constant stimuli. He could watch cells divide or stand spectator to the incredible impacts between asteroids near Mars. He could also hear conversations across the room or across the city as he chose. Clark was constantly aware of all things around him and as such was immediately aware when a pair of legs drew up short beside his desk as he was bent over retrieving a pencil that had rolled off onto the floor.
“How did you do it, Kent?” asked a feminine voice with a marked edge to it.
Looking up Clark’s vaunted state of awareness shut down and his mouth became decidedly dry as he found himself staring into the eyes of Lois Lane herself. He also found that he was experiencing that same long ago sensation of disassociation of mind from body.
“Uh…”
“Golly, with that kind of wit I guess it’s obvious how you scooped all of the other, more experienced reporters. We never stood a chance.”
“Wha…”
“The Superman story, Smallville. How did you land it? Good Ol’ Boy network? You and he used to drink beer and swap NASCAR stories on top of the old windmill?”
“I don’t…I mean he doesn’t…” Clark began to stammer feeling out of control, but fighting to maintain some semblance of intelligence. He finally steadied himself and decided on a neutral statement. “Superman doesn’t drink beer.”
Lois dropped her head in exasperation. “I didn’t mean that literally, you idiot. I want to know how a newbie scored an interview that the rest of us have tried to get since the Big Red “S” hit town. Was it just because he knew you from back home?”
“Well, sure I’d met him a couple of times, but…”
“So the rest of us bust our humps trying to practice ‘journalism’ and you strut in here with a story and a new job because you just happen to be lucky enough to know the subject.”
Clark was slowly starting to come to himself and despite his feelings of guilt about using his alter ego to get a job he found himself becoming annoyed at Lois’ accusations.
“However I got the interview, Ms. Lane,” Clark said stressing her name, “I had to ask the questions and write the article. If it wasn’t journalism I doubt Mr. White would have printed it on the front page of the Planet. If you have any further problem beyond that I suggest you take it up with him.”
Lois’ eyes had widened slightly at Clark’s biting statement and then a slight smile appeared on her lips.
“Well, at least there’s a backbone in there somewhere. It was difficult to tell what with you wearing your father’s suit and all. “
Turning away from his desk she continued, “Welcome to the Planet, Kent. You get in my way over a story again and I’ll plant a size seven shoe in the middle of that backbone or parts slightly south.” She glanced briefly over her shoulder and shot Clark a wink before walking back across the newsroom.
Clark sat in silence and opened and closed his mouth a couple of times without being able to form a reply before she disappeared. He wasn’t sure if he had just been threatened or flirted with and also wasn’t sure which one made him the most nervous.
**********
No matter how many times Lois saw Superman in action it never failed to leave her utterly amazed. The MFD had been at work on the fire for over an hour before Superman had gotten there and it had been extinguished within sixty seconds of his arrival. However, in the past few years after she had been able to observe him in action several times close up, she had discovered that his powers weren’t actually the most amazing thing about him. It was his shear presence.
Standing behind the police line Lois was able to observe Superman as he interacted with the various emergency workers. He moved among them with an unselfconscious assurance and confidence and they in turn seemed to accept him as one of their own without question. Men several years his senior treated him with deference and his very presence seemed to inspire a more serious atmosphere and a greater attention to decorum. A living, breathing angel walked among them and no one was going to be the individual who failed to give 150%.
Normally one who appreciated the wry, vagaries of life, Lois sometimes found it strange that she didn’t find it particularly amusing that emergency workers seemed to stand a bit straighter as he passed. It was probably because she had caught herself doing it as well a few times and understood the awe and inspiration this man engendered in all he encountered. You wanted to do your best when he was around not just because you didn’t want to disappoint him, but because he made you feel that you could do anything.
Besides awe, it was also obvious that his presence gave people comfort. Not just because he made you feel safe, but because the very benevolence of his nature was apparent as the “S” on his chest. It was like Santa Claus, Spring, and chocolate ice cream all wrapped into one package she had thought to herself once in a sugar induced fit of poetic creativity.
Lois spotted Ben Thomas, a fireman and current inspector with the MFD that she had known since childhood standing off to one side watching the Man of Steel and moved though the crowd toward him.
“He’s amazing to watch isn’t he?” she said as she reached his side.
“LoLo!” Ben exclaimed. “Long time no see.”
Lois rolled her eyes in mock exasperation at Ben’s use of her childhood nickname.
Ben laughed at his own joke and Lois’ reaction before replying to earlier question.
“Yeah, he’s something else. Amazes me how he does it.”
Something in the way Ben said that made Lois think he was referring to more than just Superman’s display of powers. Somewhat surprised to hear her private musings voiced aloud by another she chose to play dumb to see if Ben had been thinking the same thing she had in regards to the Man of Steel.
“Well,” Lois commented “it probably helps being a walking solar battery that can’t be harmed by mortal man.”
Ben rolled his eyes this time and barked a short laugh.
“That’s not what I mean, wisenheimer. Look,” Ben said pointing at a younger fireman standing over by one of the other trucks taking a quick break to grab a drink of water, “that’s Steve Wilson. He’s a rookie to the MFD, been with us six or seven months now. Worked a few fires out in the burbs where he started out, but he’s new to the high rise environment of Metropolis. I just watched Superman volunteer to clear one of the rooms just so Steve wouldn’t have to see the dead bodies that were in there.”
“Nice of him,” Lois said, “but that’s the kind of compassion we’ve learned to expect from him over the past few years.”
“Yeah, but look at Steve and then look at Superman. Steve’s probably got a couple of years on him. He may be new to the MFD, but he’s been in the business a few years.”
Ben leaned back against the fire truck and took a deep breath seeming to look inward for a second before he continued.
“I once had to cut a ten-year old out of a burnt up car just so his parents would have something to bury. I still sometimes wake up in the middle of the night with that image in my head. Superman has been doing this since he was what? Thirteen? And he still jumps in on a daily basis and takes the time to worry about how the sight of a body is going to affect a man who chose this as a career. That’s what’s amazing. I’ve seen fires, car wrecks, and industrial accidents. He’s seen that plus war, famine, and God only know what and he still wants to help and he still worries about the feelings of others.”
Lois felt a lump form in her throat at the large man’s open frankness and laid a hand on his arm to convey support to her old friend.
“I just wonder what images he has in his head that wake him up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night,” Ben added looking into the distance.
The comment took Lois by surprise. She’d never thought about how things like that affected Superman. After all, he was…well, Superman. Lois was thoughtful for a few moments before she spoke.
“Yeah, I guess he is pretty amazing. Makes you realize how fortunate we are that he’s the one who ended up on this planet.”
“Yeah,” Ben replied, “have to wonder how he holds it together though. If I didn’t have the other guys to blow off steam with I’d go nuts.”
“What do you mean?” Lois asked.
“Everyday people have no idea what we go though.” Ben said. “I don’t mean you LoLo, you’ve been around, but the average guy on the street hasn’t a clue. We all know what the score is and we know when things reach a boiling point in the station house. We joke and prank around and after a fire like this or any accident with severe injuries or a death the department even has some guys come in to do an incident debriefing.”
“Incident debriefing?” Lois interrupted to ask.
“Yeah, it’s called a critical incident stress debriefing or CISD. A team made up of firemen, police, medics, etc. usually with someone specializing in mental health. They come around after an incident like this and we talk about what happened. It’s not a time to second-guess things or play the ‘What if’ game, it’s just a time to talk about what happened and helps you process all of the stuff going on in you head. I could have really used it in that situation with the kid back when I was a rookie. It sure works great now. ”
“I just wonder how he,” Ben said nodding toward Superman “handles things like that. You know he sees terrible stuff all of the time. Heck, considering that he covers the entire world in a given day he may see that kind of stuff everyday. But he still keeps a positive attitude and he keeps coming back for more. Like I said, amazing.”
“How long do you think one of your guys could function that way?” Lois asked.
“Oh, hell, LoLo,” Ben said shaking his head, “it’s hard to say. We got along for years without the CISD teams. But any emergency service worker, fireman, cop, EMT, or whatnot will tell you that we have the highest burnout and suicide rates in any profession. I know I handle things a whole lot better now and I was one of the ones who made fun of the whole process when the department started using them a few years back. So, long answer short, not sure how long one would last, but I bet the rookies we’re putting on the streets today will last a lot longer because of them.”
“But how long can a Superman last?” Lois said almost to herself.
“I guess that would depend on what he has at home, LoLo,” Ben said. “Does he go home to a supportive family or friends? Does he have his own version of a CISD team back at that fortress you’ve written about? Or maybe he just spends a lot of money on therapy.”
“Yeah,” Lois said, “that is the question. What does he go home to?”
TBC...
