“Let’s go by the bus terminal, see if we can have a look at that bus Polly said Superman, I mean the man with the glasses, stopped. Maybe there’s a fingerprint on it. We could see if we could match it with Superman’s.”
“What good would that do Lois, think about it? It had to have been Superman, who else could stop a bus? We’d just be right back where we started. Does Superman even have fingerprints?” he added.
“Yes, but at least we’d know for sure it was Superman’s.”
“And how are you going to get Superman’s fingerprints? Hi Superman, could I get your finger prints please? I'm trying to find out who you disguise yourself as when you’re not saving people. Right, Lois!”
“Clark!” Lois said impatiently, “he’s touched all sorts of things. We lift his prints like anybody else’s.”
“Oh.” Clark was quiet again. His brain sure wasn’t working very well today. “I forgot.”
“I can see why you aren’t spearheading this investigation!” She said, smiling at him fondly.
“Okay, so you’re going to put a tracking device on him and you’re going to get his fingerprints.” Clark summarized.
“Hey, I wonder if we could get him to write something and then try matching his handwriting.” She brainstormed.
“To what? Are you going to gather handwriting from everyone in Metropolis and see if they match Superman’s?”
“Not everyone, Clark, we don’t need the women’s.” she retorted haughtily before the absurdity of it made them both laugh.
Lois looked at her watch. “Boy did it take them a long time to bring our lunch. It’s nearly 1:30 we’d better get out of here.”
Clark looked up and raised his hand to catch the attention of the waitress. “Check please?” he smiled at her and she smiled back at him as she came over with it.
“You look familiar,” she said to him, “have we met?”
“Clark Kent,” he responded, offering his hand. She took it and replied,
“Susan Green.”
“We’re from the Daily Planet. I'm Lois Lane.” Lois said, offering her hand.
“Oh, of course, I’ve heard of you.” Turning back to Clark she smiled, “Have you been in here before? You really look familiar.”
He was beginning to feel naked again, he had to get out of here.
“Do you live in the building across from me? I don’t suppose we’ve met, but I think I’ve seen you coming and going from there. Superman comes to visit you a lot doesn’t he?” Lois’ ears perked up at that. Perhaps she should get to know this woman.
Clark looked at the waitress more closely, unsure he wanted Lois to know how often Superman really landed on his balcony and came inside, or shot off from the balcony into the sky above. Yes, he had seen a similar face in the window of the building across the street. “You live with your mother?” he offered.
“Yes, she’s not doing too well and I try to take her out as much as I can, get her into the sunlight where she can get a bit of vitamin D.”
Clark smiled at her. “Yes, I’ve seen you with her over at the park beyond my building. She’s in a wheelchair, right?”
“Yes, ever since she fell and broke her leg. That was a few months ago.”
“It must be hard getting her up and down the stairs of your building. Do you have an elevator?”
“No, but we’re moving to the first floor this Saturday, the first of the month you know.”
“That’ll be better for you. I can’t imagine trying to get a woman in a wheelchair up and down stairs, Susan. Do you have anyone to help you?” Lois asked, showing real concern for her situation.
“No, it’s just me and my mom. She moved in with me when my father died last summer. I love having her with me, but it sure changed my life. I’ve had to take a lot of time off work since the accident. I'm hoping that after we move to the first floor it will be better. My mom just sits and looks out the window these days. I feel so bad for her. But I must say, she knows everything that goes on in the neighborhood.” Lois was still listening intently.
Clark smiled, wishing he could help. He’d have to drop in on moving day as Superman. That would certainly be of help. “You know, Superman is always looking for ways to help out. Would you like me to ask him if he could come over and give you a hand when you’re moving?”
“Oh would you? That would be just wonderful! My brother can’t make it, he has to be out of town and we can’t postpone the move until he gets back.
“Which apartment are you in now?” Clark asked, jotting down the answer.
“#316. Would you like my phone number, too, Clark?” To his response she said, “555-8293. We hope to start moving as soon as the people move out. They said they should be done by 10am this Saturday. Thank you so much, Clark.”
“I'm glad we can be of some help to you and your mother. Give her my regards, I suppose she knows who I am, if she watches out the window all the time!”
Lois jotted down the address and phone number privately. Maybe this older woman could give her some more information to go on.
“Thank you so much,” she said, shaking Clark’s hand again as he and Lois headed to the cashier by the door.
Lois took his arm when they were outside and tucked hers inside his. “That was nice of you, Clark.” He looked down at her and smiled.
“Thanks.”
Clark read the house numbers aloud as they drove down Mercury Blvd. “Here it is, 459,” he said. Lois pulled over to the side of the road.
“Ms. Plume? I'm Lois Lane and this is my partner, Clark Kent.” Lois said to the lady who stood with the door open.
“Won’t you please come in?” she opened the door wider and stepped out of the way. A wall covered with Superman posters, photos and clippings greeted them as they entered the living room.
“My, you certainly are interested in Superman!” Lois began, recognizing many photos that had run with her articles.
“Well, he saved my life. I wouldn’t be here today if he hadn’t shown up and stopped that bus,” Polly replied. Nobody listened to me that day when I tried to tell them what had happened, but I’ve found other people who want to listen since then. Here, have a seat.” She showed them to the white print couch and sat down in an overstuffed, matching chair beside it.
“Ms. Plume, can you tell us about your experience again? Clark hasn’t heard your story yet.”
Clark nodded politely to her. He was holding his chin in one hand, his fingers obscuring his mouth.
She began, “Oh, of course. Well, I was crossing the road near where you work at the Daily Planet, just down the street from that big mural on a wall, when the bus didn’t stop. It was just racing ahead down the road. Its brakes must have given out. Just when I heard it and turned to see this massive bus almost running us down, I saw a young man rush out in front of the bus and stop it. He just put his hand out and the bus hit him but he didn’t fall or anything, the bus just stopped. After he did it, I was yelling. He looked right at me, then turned and ran back to the sidewalk where he picked up his suitcase and ran away. There was a deep handprint on the front of the bus where he’d stopped it. That was before Superman was on TV and everywhere.”
“Ms. Plume,”
“Call me Polly, please.”
“Polly, can you describe the man to us please?” Lois asked patiently, her interview voice on and her body poised to pick up on the tiniest detail.
“Well, he had long hair. I mean, it was just over his collar. It was a sort of dark brown. He was wearing a white shirt and a tie with a trench coat. He was young. I’d say he was in his twenties. Oh, and he had on black rimmed glasses. Well, they weren’t exactly black rimmed. They were dark at the top and clear at the bottom. The frames, I mean. They had little swirly colors in the dark part” She had closed her eyes as if looking at a photograph and describing what she saw seen.
“You said he looked a lot like Superman,” Lois continued.
“Yes.” Polly went over to an end table and pulled out a picture of Superman. She’d drawn the glasses on the face just as Lois had, except it looked better. Lois studied the photo for a moment, holding it so Clark could see it at the same time. She’d also covered the red suit with a long dark overcoat he’d been wearing, and lengthened the hair slightly at the nape of his neck and puffed it up at the top, letting a bit hang down over the side of his forehead.
“So this is what he looked like when you saw him?”
“Yes, Ms. Lane. I have a very good memory. Some people say it’s a photographic memory.
“Did he say anything?” Lois continued.
“No, he just looked at me with that fear in his face, like he didn’t want anyone to know who had done it.”
“So did you talk to the other people there on the crosswalk with you? Had they seen what had happened?”
“Well, actually, most of them were just so preoccupied, they never noticed. Anyone who did look didn’t see the man.”
“So did you just keep crossing the street or did you follow him?”
“Oh, I went after him, Ms. Lane.”
Clark stiffened slightly, not having realized that she’d followed him. He remembered trying to blend into the crowd.
“He went back to the sidewalk and picked up his suitcase. It was an really old brown one, light brown. Leather. It was all beaten up. He must have been really poor. His clothes weren’t that nice, and that suitcase was really shabby.” She paused as if remembering something. “Oh, there were two large gold letters on the side of the suitcase, just below the handle. ‘CK’ I think they were. They were pretty worn, too.”
His cover was blown for sure now, Clark thought as he remembered the letters on his suitcase. Jimmy called him CK all the time. Would Lois put two and two together, or four and four? Had she ever seen his suitcase? He’d carried it into the Daily Planet that day when he’d had the first interview with Perry.
It was a good thing he was Superman, because it was taking super self-control not to react to this new information she was giving to Lois. Boy did he need to go to Kansas for awhile. He sighed as inconspicuously as possible.
“You saw some letters on the side of the suitcase? Did they look like part of the name of the manufacturer?”
“Oh no Ms. Lane, they were engraved gold lettering, like people have on their stuff with their names. “Ms. Polly, what happened when you followed him?”
“Well, he was fast. I was pretty shaken up you know, what with almost meeting my Maker and all. I really wanted to go thank him, offer to feed him or something, something to repay him for saving our lives. I saw him run into the crowd on the sidewalk and disappear.
“What day did this happen?” Lois forged ahead.
“Oh, I have it written down here. It was the day before they demolished the old theatre. I remember because I’d been on my way to a ‘save the theatre’ meeting. I’d been bringing the snacks.
Polly took off her glasses and rubbed the lenses. “My sight isn’t so good anymore. I am having a cataract operation in a few months. What good is having a photographic memory anymore if everything looks like it’s covered in a deep fog?” she complained.
Clark had wondered why she hadn’t recognized him right away. He was hoping Lois didn’t see him sigh in relief and drop his hand to his lap as Polly finished wiping her glasses and putting them back on.
“You said before that you’d found other people who want to listen to your story. Could you tell me about these people? Are they Superman fans, too?”
“Well, some of them are, I mean they all are. But there’s one man I know who had an experience just like mine, Michael. He said he’d been working in a manhole when the same man rescued him. Superman must have been pretty scared of being found out. I mean, I don’t know why, but he sure didn’t want anyone to know it had been him that time either, almost like he’d done something wrong. I’ve never seen anyone so modest before.”
Lois was writing in her notebook. Clark picked up the picture of himself that Polly had added some glasses to. He felt so grateful that she couldn’t see him clearly. What a relief. The picture did look like him. Why didn’t Lois see it? Maybe she had cataracts, too, he thought humorously. One day when he told her about himself, she’d kick herself for being so blind. If that day ever came. If she didn’t find out first and drop him like a hot potato.
Lois was talking again. “What’s your friend Michael’s last name? Do you know how we could get in touch with him?”
“Yes, Michael Goodman. He’s in the phonebook. He comes to our meetings. You could come if you’d like Ms. Lane. We meet on the first of every month at 7pm in the conference room at the courthouse. They let us use it. We’ve been meeting there for a long time now.”
“Yes, tell me about your group, Polly. And please call me Lois,” she added, having been too captivated by Polly’s revelations that she’d neglected to correct her properly.
“Our group? Well, we are people who Superman has saved. We really admire him and we owe everything to him. Superman’s very modest you know, and he won’t accept much of anything from anybody, just a thank you and maybe a hug or a kiss.”
Lois flashed on the little something she was going to give Superman the next time she was close enough to hug or kiss him. She felt like a rat, trying to tag a man like that. A man who wished only good for others.
“But we love to get together and talk about him, all the things that he has done for us. He’s changed most of our lives. Having been so close to death has really made us stop and think about what’s really important in life. Most of us have dedicated ourselves to helping others.”
A puzzled look came across Lois’ face. “Why did you call me then, Polly? You said you were calling to give me a tip.”
“Well,” Polly began more slowly. “if Superman saved me and Michael when he wasn’t wearing the suit, we thought that maybe there were other people he had saved like that, too. We thought that maybe they’d like to know about our group, and maybe they’d like to know who it was that saved them. We sure do see him as an angel sent from God.”
Polly stopped talking and folded her hands in her lap. “Oh, I didn’t offer you a cup of coffee or anything, I'm sorry.”
“No, that’s fine,” Lois protested. “Really, we have to be on our way. But thank you. Thank you for everything.” She stood to leave, Clark following her lead. “May I borrow this picture you’ve drawn of him?” She picked it up from the coffee table in front of her. Usually Clark would have steered Lois away from pictures like that, but it was out of his hands now.
“Well, yes, of course,” Polly replied. “Will you be writing a story about this?”
“I er, well, something. Oh, what did you say the name of your group was?” Lois added, pulling her notebook back out of her bag, amazed she’d forgotten to ask.
“SAVED.”
“Saved?”
“Yes, it is short for Superman is always victorious, even over death.
“Thank you, Polly. You’ve been quite helpful.”
“Are you going to find out who the man was? I mean, when he’s not being Superman?”
“Well, I'm going to try,” Lois responded, heading to the door as she put her notebook away.
