Bolt, From Dubuque (Part 3)
By Ann Nonymous
Clark shuffled into his dorm room, emotionally tired even though the day was still young. Smallville might be the place he went to try and gain some answers, but inevitably when he returned, so did most of his problems. He knew better than to believe that a simple trip to his boyhood home would resolve anything, but at least it gave him some perspective on everything. Still, he thought as he tossed his coat on a chair and flopped down on the couch, at least he had the better part of the day to recover. He reached for the remote and turned the TV on, hoping to get his mind off the turmoil in his life and onto better things. The channel that first appeared had a commercial on, so he set about running through the channel selections at almost superhuman speed, taking only a fraction of a second to absorb the content of one before moving on to the next. As his thumb quickly pressed the channel arrow on his remote, he noticed that a lot of stations that normally didn’t carry news seemed to have some sort of reporter on them, often framed is some sort of comically skewed camera angle. At times when he was trying to relax, normally the news was the last thing he wanted to watch, but as the reporters appeared channel after channel, he found that his curiosity was piqued, and he stopped to see what the big story was.
The man that greeted him was tall and handsome, and apparently meticulously coiffed at one point and time. But that time had long since passed, and now his hair was sticking out at several odd angles, and his face was shiny with perspiration. The top button of his shirt was open behind his loosened tie, and his hands nervously flew up to grab the knot and pull it down even further as he talked. “We’re standing in the heart of downtown Metropolis,” the man on the television said, his eyes wide and his breathing rather rapid. Looking over his shoulder, his hand moved from the tie to the hair, patting it down somewhat as he searched the sky. Around him stood many other reporters, all equally disheveled and excited, all looking up into the air for something, but Clark couldn’t imagine what. “A throng of reporters and ordinary citizens have all converged on this area after a police officer reported that he had been assisted by a man who flew down from the heavens. Security camera footage from surrounding buildings has corroborated the incredible story. Since the initial report, this flying man has been spotted at least twice more in a three block area. With any luck, he will show up again so that the whole world can see him for themselves.”
Clark immediately sat up, the remote nearly falling out of his hand. He knew his mouth was hanging wide open, but he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The person they were describing apparently could FLY, but as far as he knew, nobody but himself possessed that particular ability. Certainly there wasn’t anyone out there like him, was there? His parents had never said anything about it, but they really hadn’t had the chance to tell him all that much about his heritage. What if this person was some sort of relative? What if they were here to find him? As the questions shot through his mind, the camera began to pan around the area, showing nothing but a crowded city street in what was a relatively normal looking area. A police cruiser sat in the middle of the scene, its occupants walking around and guiding the masses out of the streets to allow for traffic.
As the camera continued to scan the cloudless sky, a dark speck appeared in the distance, weaving back and forth in the air between the buildings. Larger and larger it grew as the crowd in the area became deathly quiet and everyone stared in blind awe. Clark found himself scooting anxiously along the couch, closer and closer to the television. The man on the television came into focus as he landed in the center of the mob, immediately drawing the attention of the reporters.
The man’s figure wasn’t overly impressive. He was roughly as tall as the surrounding crowd and wearing a worn pair of tennis shoes, jeans, and a loose-fitting San Diego Chargers football jersey over a white t-shirt. His eyes were covered with a pair of dark wraparound sunglasses, and some brown hair poked out from beneath a silver helmet. His face wasn’t particularly memorable, although he looked somewhat familiar to Clark. He appeared to be college aged, no older than 30 or so, although when he smiled he looked like he could almost be half that old. As the roar of the surrounding crowd began to build again, he just smiled at grasped his hands behind his back, rocking from heel to toe until the noise began to abate once again.
The noisy silence went on for several minutes before the new hero held up his hand and cocked an eyebrow, holding the pose until, finally, the voices muted. “My friends,” he said in a loud voice, eliciting the memory of memories inside of Clark. Whoever this was, Clark was sure that he’d met him before, but the details of just when and where held themselves just beyond his grasp. “I come here to do my part for the betterment of society. I would like nothing more than to assist the police in any way I can, and make the streets of Metropolis and other cities throughout the country and the world safe for everyday citizens.” Turning slowly, he looked back and forth at the members of the crowd, making sure to regard each reporter separately. “Please do not fear what I can do. Rather, please embrace my talents as I have, as a special gift that was presented upon me so that I can help you. Questions?”
All at once, a roar erupted around him as the reporters shot questions at the stranger and addressed their audiences anew. The man reporting on Clark’s station opened his mouth to speak, but before he could offer his expert view of the situation, the phone in Clark’s room rang. It was the distinctive double ring that only came from calls from one source. Cringing, Clark got off the couch, looking at the phone once before finally picking up the receiver.
“I didn’t do it,” he said, hoping to preempt the tide that was most certainly coming. The other end of the line remained silent for a blessed moment before a string of words erupted from the mouthpiece, drowning out the TV and the further insight into the stranger who somehow seemed to hold Clark’s powers, as well. As the litany progressed, Clark uttered the occasional grunt to let Lana know that he was still there, but there was no way he could possibly fit any whole words into the one-sided conversation. He pulled the receiver away from his ear ever so slightly, trying to hear the juicy details about the new superhero, but failing miserably. He wanted to do nothing more than to go out to Metropolis right then and there and confront this man, but.... Somehow he imagined that when the press was done with this guy, the skies wouldn’t be safe for him for a very long time. And Lana would most certainly not want him anywhere near this other guy, for fear of giving away something that she wasn’t ready to have him give away. It was too bad, too, because it might be fun, or at least insightful, to meet someone like him.
Dragging the phone to the couch, Clark sat down again, feeling suddenly dejected. Today could be monumental, it could be scary, it could many things to many people, but whatever it was going to end up being for that man on the screen would have consequences for Clark, as well. He just wished he didn’t feel so... hemmed in. Looking down at the receiver, he sighed audibly, knowing that Lana wouldn’t hear it above her ranting. Watching the crowd on the television give its undivided attention to this new hero, Clark could only imagine himself in the same position, and that finally brought a smile to his face. He didn’t think he’d be one for all that attention, but at least it was all positive. Nobody was standing there in lab coats, nobody was cowering in fear of this guy. All he saw was interest and gratitude, the stray awe-filled stares and oddly appraising looks, but nothing that he would think anyone could fear.
Eventually the hero flew off into the sky, and the crowd watched him leave, then turned toward the camera again to finish their broadcasts. As the man on Clark’s channel began to talk again, Clark saw something that made his hand go limp and the phone receiver slip away from his ear. There, in the eyes of that reporter, was the most remarkable thing: hope. The words he spoke, which Clark could now hear, were accentuated with a spark of positive energy and an enthusiasm that Clark almost never saw from reporters. And that man, whoever he was, had given him that. If that wasn’t a sign, Clark didn’t know what was.
Grasping the phone tightly and bringing it up to his ear, he said Lana’s name until she finally quieted. “I need to go,” he said simply.
“Hey, wait a minute,” Lana started, but Clark just hung up the phone. That might come back to haunt him later, but for right now, he couldn’t just sit there. He had to get out there and talk to this guy, and then, well, then he had a lot of thinking to do. In one short moment, the insight he couldn’t find in Smallville presented itself, and he couldn’t allow himself to pass such a momentous thing by.
*~*~*
Rows of cars filled the streets as far as the eye could see, lining up in the spaces between the massive skyscrapers, their colors creating an interesting mosaic as they reflected off of the glass around them. In the back of one of those cars, the passenger growled and watched as pedestrians, many of whom were carrying video cameras, streamed toward her destination while she sat stuck in traffic. Digging around in her purse, she found a ten dollar bill and thrust it toward the cab driver. Grasping the handle of the door, she tensed and prepared to join the running mass of people ever before her fare was accepted.
“I’m getting out. Keep the change,” she said. As soon as the money was taken from her hand, she was out the door, going as fast as her dress shoes would take her. Leave it to the biggest story in Metropolis in decades to happen while she was in the middle of a project presentation, wearing a dress for the first and last time that year. Her backpack flopped against her body as she ran, the books inside threatening to knock her off balance more than once. The run seemed interminable, but eventually she could see the flashing lights of a cop car signaling the location she had been looking for. At that moment, the crowd turned a corner, and suddenly, in front of her, she could see a stagnant mob, all looking up at the sky, all quiet as quiet could be. She immediately stopped and followed their collective gaze, and saw what appeared to be a man, flying though the air. In a matter of seconds he came down from the sky, landing only a few feet from where she was.
It was all true, she thought as the crowd began to roar around her. She had heard rumors of the flying man’s existence earlier in the day, but had chalked it up to tabloid speculation. Upon hearing evidence of surveillance camera corroboration and the growing horde of media gathering at the scene of the confirmed sighting, she had high tailed it over there. She considered herself a journalist before anything else, and she did mean anything. If it meant missing class to get the big story, then so be it. If the scoop was big enough, she had been known to leave in the middle of tests or presentations without so much as batting an eye. She had even been known to leave a cousin’s wedding to get in on a relatively important development in an investigation she had been a part of. There were those who said that going to such lengths for the sake of a relatively unknown college newspaper was probably foolish at best and downright crazy at worse, but her philosophy was that any paper she worked for, be it the Daily Planet, the Metropolis University Daily, or the advertiser they give out for free at the grocery store, would be the best because she was there. Someday she would make the big time, but until then she would do the best with what she had. And what she had, right now, was a front row seat to the story that every journalist in America was covering.
The flying man waiting patiently for the crowd to calm down. From her close perspective, she could see the slight beads of sweat at his temples, giving away an inner nervousness that was very well disguised by his stoic exterior. Once, as he rocked back and forth, he looked at her and gave a hint of a smile, causing a hot flash of excitement to shoot through her. All too soon, though, his attentions were elsewhere, and as he began to speak, he looked at everyone around her individually, although she was pleased to note that no other spectator got the near smile that she had received. Fortunately she had the presence of mind to activate the tape recorder she kept in her coat pocket at all times, capturing his simple yet powerful words. As he finished, he asked for questions, and that was when she finally spoke up, even as the rest of the crowd did, too.
“Lois Lane, Metropolis University Daily. What should we call you?” she yelled, her voice barely audible to even her above the din. If he needed a name, she could certainly provide him with one, no problem. Someone who did what he did could be nothing short of a Superman, a name which, she had to admit, was pretty catchy.
She didn’t actually expect to have her question answered, if only because most of the other reporters yelling questions of their own around her were far more well-known and respected than she was, but to her surprise, the mysterious man turned to her and smiled again, this time without any hesitation. “My name is Bolt,” he said, almost as if he were talking only to her. She smiled back, noting for the first time that the shirt he wore had lightning bolts on it. Cheesy, she thought, but not beat-you-over-the-head cheesy.
More questions were asked and answered, and her tape recorder caught it all, but she found her mind wandering to the finer attributes of this man who stood in front of her. In the no-nonsense world of Lois Lane, the idea of attraction was an academic one. Sure she had had the occasional tingle of the spine when seeing a handsome man from afar, but that wasn’t love. That was lust, a dangerous thing for someone who was trying to go far in the world. Lust, that blind attraction toward men, could only get in the way of her dreams and aspirations. Unchecked, who knew where it would lead? That wasn’t to say it was a bad thing, but it wasn’t THE thing as far as she was concerned. The important thing was to find someone who she could trust, who had enough respect for her to let her go her own way, but without being a doormat. Ideally, her perfect partner would probably be a lot like the man in front of her appeared to be – not the prototypical knight in shining armor that every little girl wanted to grow up to marry, but someone who she could respect. And if there was anything she felt for this man she had only met a couple of minutes ago, it was respect. She respected the fact that he had saved people, she respected the fact that he had the courage to come out in front of all these people, and most of all she respected the way he handled himself under the pressure. That made it okay for her to search for the lustful side of herself that she would’ve normally ignored, so look she did, and she had to admit that what she saw wasn’t bad at all. He was very endearing when he smiled, and seemed so young and innocent. At the same time, she thought as her eyes wandered down to his biceps, he was very well built. He had other physical assets that a girl could go for – namely, the whole flying thing, and his strength. And he obviously had an innate goodness. She found herself smiling as she pondered the possibilities. Normally she wasn’t one to go chasing after men, but he DID smile at her, a flirt if she ever saw one.
It was hard to say whether she was truly attracted to the man in front of her or if she merely built up the shadow of attraction based on the idea of him. She eyed him in a new light as he continued to talk, but all too soon he smiled again, then took off into the air, casting another glance at her as he moved further and further away. A squeak escaped her lips as he grew into a speck in the sky, and she began to realize that whatever private flirtation they’d had obviously didn’t mean anything. He was a national celebrity now, the first one she’d ever really seen up close, and it would be more likely than not that she’d never see him again. Suddenly realizing that she was still holding her tape recorder in the air in front of her, she yanked her arm down and looked around. All the rest of the media was packing up, some were already leaving, and here she was, watching her fantasy boyfriend leave without so much as a goodbye. Her cheeks began to burn in acute embarrassment, and she decided that it was time for her to leave, too. Her feet, assaulted on the run over, were now on fire, burning with every step. She longed to find a cab, but unfortunately, traffic was still at a standstill. Traffic wouldn’t be going anywhere for quite a while, and if she wanted to get out of the city and back toward campus, it was walk there or don’t get there at all.
She went on as long as she could, passing block after block of gridlocked traffic and wary drivers, before she decided that she couldn’t take anymore. The rest of the pedestrian traffic had long since gone its separate ways, leaving her relatively alone on the sidewalk. There was plenty of room to sit down, but as she looked at the ground, littered with grime and bubblegum wads, she decided that it might be safer to find someplace a little more...sanitary to rest. Fortunately, there was an alley nearby, and what looked to be a well-swept set of steps leading into a door. Turning to the corner into the shadowy alley, she maneuvered over toward the steps and sat down with an audible sigh. Sitting down had never felt so good, she thought as she wrenched one of she shoes off and rubber her feet. Surely dress shoes were an invention of some sadistic sicko who didn’t have to wear them. If she ever saw her apartment again, this pair would certainly be relegated to some dark and dusty corner, never to be seen for a long, long time.
Lois closed her eyes and leaned against the door, the adrenaline high of earlier finally wearing down for good. Getting up might be a very hard thing to do. But just as she let herself begin to slip away into a pseudo nap, she sensed some movement. Her eyes popped open just in time to see something fall from the air to a spot beside her. The sound of a gunshot followed, and she turned with a yelp toward the sound, her heart racing in anticipation of what she might see. Standing there in the alley was the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on, bent over one of the filthiest men she had ever seen. A gun was clutched in the hobo’s hand, but there was no blood anywhere.
She could only stare at the strange sight in front of her, her breaths coming in ragged gulps. The handsome stranger looked up at her, an intensely determined expression on his face, his chocolate colored eyes slowly locking into hers. Hotness knifed through her, filling her with the type of raw awareness of him that she thought was only a fable. It made all the innocent crushes that she had felt in her life before that moment seem downright insignificant. Even her brief flirtation with the city’s new superhero absolutely paled to this. The academic in her screamed words of warning, but she knew she had nothing to worry about. She knew a knight in shining armor when she saw one, and she was certainly looking at him at the moment.
They stared at each other for what seemed like forever, before some sort of fear or embarrassment seemed to come over him, and he looked away. Flustered, he stood up straighter and looked out into the neighboring street. He made a move to straighten out his somewhat rumpled shirt, but his hand was in a fist, holding something that he didn’t seem to anxious to get rid of at that moment. Looking at his closed hand for a second with wide eyes, he quickly thrust it into his jeans, then cleared his throat and began to stride into the depths of the alley.
“Hey!” Lois called out with enough power to mask to terrible shaking that was beginning to take over her entire body. He stopped abruptly, but only turned about halfway back toward her. “What happened, just now?” she asked, looking toward the unconscious man a couple feet from her. She knew, of course, the gist of what had happened. Gunshots tended to be very telling. But for whatever reason, she needed to hear his voice; she needed to have him say something, anything.
His eyes met hers again, and she felt at once comforted as his gaze ever so subtly soothed away her fear.
He gave a tentative smile. “I was passing by and noticed this man,” he said, pointing to the hobo, his voice soft and calming. “Lucky for you, I was able to get to him before he got to you.”
Anticipation lingered on his face, and she nodded ever so gently, hypnotized by his words. There was probably more to the story than that, but the details weren’t important at the moment. Looking back up at him, she smiled back, bringing him noticeable relief. “I’d like to thank you for saving my life,” she said, pondering how easy it would be to get lost in those eyes. The smile he gave in response was absolutely stunning, and she found her heart beating rapidly again, but this time not through fear.
“I couldn’t imagine doing otherwise,” he answered, the beautiful smile on his face reflected in his voice. For a moment, Lois let herself forget about the world, all the problems it held and stories that were just crying out to be written. It was a humbling thing to have faced death, to know that she owed her life to the bravery and generosity of another. There were so many things she could say to him, so many questions she could ask, but she wouldn’t. In reality, though, there was only one thing she wanted to know.
“What’s your name?” she asked, hoping that THIS hero would leave her with some way to find him again. His smile faded abruptly at the question, though, and she knew right away that she wouldn’t get her wish.
“It’s not important,” he answered, the earlier radiance gone from his voice. “I’m glad you’re okay.” With that, he gave her a nod and disappeared onto the sidewalk. Lois squeaked and tried to get up to follow him, but she found her body unwilling to comply. With a groan, she managed to fight past the aches and pains and stand up, but by the time she reached the entrance to the alley, he had already disappeared into the city.
Her hands balled into fists and she pounded the side of the building in frustration. Two heroes, two disappointments. She supposed she could forgive Bolt for being less than forthcoming – he WAS a major celebrity, and in his position, she would probably have flown off, too. There really hadn’t been anything between her and him anyway, just the idea of a romance. What she had seen as flirtation had probably been nothing more than basic friendliness, something she had apparently been oblivious to. But this man, he was different. That deep and all-consuming attraction she felt for him had most definitely been mirrored in his eyes. His voice, too, had been so gentle, his words so flattering. But then, abruptly, he had left when she asked his name. He was a mysterious hero who seemed for all the world like a normal, average Joe, but apparently there was more to it than that. A normal person wouldn’t have any reason to hide.
Questions, she thought as she looked up into the sky, there were suddenly so many questions. She knew that something had fallen from the sky right before he showed up. She also knew that a gun had been fired, but, she thought as she scanned the alley, there was no sign of a bullet impacting anything. What if.... The idea was almost too ridiculous to comprehend, but in a world where flying men were known to exist, it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility. There could be more than one superhero, couldn’t there?
Lois shifted her gaze back to the cityscape beyond her alley sanctuary, a knowing smile creeping across her face. What a story THAT would be, if she could prove it. It would be something that no other network or newspaper would have. Lois Lane could finally claim the ultimate scoop, and maybe, just maybe, she could meet the man of her dreams again in the process.
