Bolt, From Dubuque (Part 16)
By: Ann Nonymous
*1993*
Nobody could say that the bullpen of the Daily Planet was quiet. The constant bustle of people and low conversation gave the area a distinctive soundtrack, one that could be grating to those who had never experienced before. But to Clark, the steady noise was a soothing thing, a part of the Planet that was as defining as the large globe now standing over the entrance of the building. In a way, it was also a reflection of Metropolis, the city he now called home, a place that never slept, never slowed down, never lacked for a dull moment; a place that was strikingly different from where he called home for the first two decades of his life, but that he could never imagine living outside of, not anymore. But even above the conversation, the ringing of telephones, and the gentle clatter of keyboards, it was hard to miss a hard, heavy sigh, one that spoke of frustration, one that originated from the desk of Lois Lane, his wife of the last four years.
Clark looked up from the story he was working on and glanced toward Lois, the very sight of her bringing a smile to his face. Lois was leaning back in her chair, her eyes locked onto the ceiling high above, her hands clasped together behind her head. On the desk in front of her, papers were scattered randomly, sitting oddly atop stacks of folders, coffee mugs, writing utensils, and other random objects. Only her computer, a plant tinted brown from years of abuse and malnourishment, and a framed photograph of a handsome, dark-haired young boy stuck out above the mess. After a moment, Lois breathed deeply and leaned forward again, glancing toward the photograph before shifting her eyes toward Clark, her frown quickly disappearing.
It was the arms smuggling story, Clark thought as he rose from his chair and took the few short strides toward her desk. For months, the Metropolis Police Department had been noting the steady increase of guns available on the streets of Metropolis. Clark, too, had noticed how the city seemed to be getting steadily more violent. Gunshots rang out across the city often, and lately it had taken more and more of his time to tend to the consequences. He’d covertly tried to do what he could to get the guns off the street, smuggling gun stockpiles away and destroying them. Lois had taken it upon herself to look into why the problem had come about, and who was profiting from the illegal sales and from the deaths of those caught in the crossfire. Daily Planet editor Perry White had been more than happy to let her devote her time to the story, knowing full well that a Lane investigation always had a large, front-page payoff.
Clark offered to do what he could to help her, but this was one investigation that she wanted for herself, and he could certainly respect that. This story would be her way of bringing about real change to the world, something that he did on a daily basis in his other guise, and something that he knew he tended to take for granted. The story required some minor undercover work and heavy reliance on some rather shady sources to get into the meat of the investigation, and although he had promised to let her do whatever she needed to do, Clark had discreetly kept an eye on her. Lois had a nose for trouble, and Clark had long since lost count of the number of times that he had saved her from one dangerous situation or another, although that hadn’t been the case recently. Lois had come to her senses, aware for the first time that there were a wealth of reasons for her to keep herself safe, and it was all because someone had come into their lives and caused both of them to examine what their priorities were.
Clark circled behind Lois and rested his hand on her shoulder, his eyes wandering toward the photograph rising above the papers on her desk. Jonathan, their miracle, the child that they never thought they could have, was the reason that Lois Lane had finally slowed down. Neither of them was well versed in biology, but it only stood to reason that a human shouldn’t be able to procreate with someone or something outside their own species. After they had married, the subject of children had come up a few times, and they had discussed the matter in rational terms, always deciding that maybe it was for the best that they could never have a baby. But, rationality aside, he knew that the idea that she would never be a mother saddened her more than she would ever let him know, and he sometimes caught himself wondering what it would be like to have a little person around who would carry all the best of Lois and himself. Then, one day, it had happened. Lois became pregnant. Maybe, underneath all the differences that separated him from the average person, underneath the flying and the invulnerability, he was just the same, a human after all. He teased Lois that the kid would probably look just like the mailman, but now, a year later, it was hard to deny the resemblance to his childhood photographs. Jonathan was their ultimate symbol of love, and he was also the anchor of their family. Lois, the formerly daring intrepid reporter, looked at life differently after he came along, no longer risking everything for the big headline, no longer willing to expose herself to possible death. Superman, too, had scaled back his work, only responding to major events and patrolling infrequently. For both of them, the thrill that their work had represented no longer seemed all that important when compared to the thrill that one word or one step from their son could bring.
“It’s a foreign source, I know it,” Lois said, waving her hand in the air above the desk. “I tracked down the ship that my source fingered and found that it was owned by a Dutch company, although the cargo aboard largely originated from the Congo.”
News from that area of the world seemed to be mentioned in one international publication or another on almost a daily basis. “Aren’t they fighting a civil war in that part of Africa?” Clark asked, leaning over the desk, quickly scanning the papers.
“Yes, a very expensive one,” Lois replied, reaching for one sheet that was partially buried. She had apparently read the same articles he had, and probed a little further into the particulars of what was going on over there if the sheet of paper was any indication. A dictator, installed by a foreign government interested in obtaining preferential treatment and mineral rights, had become unpopular and violent. The wealthy landowners persecuted by the government banded with the common citizen whose rights had been taken away to form a revolutionary army, one with the ultimate objective of putting one of their members in power. Both the resistance movement and the dictator had wealthy backers, and both would go to any lengths to secure victory. “Guns, while necessary for war, also fetch a lot of money on the black market,” Lois continued. “If some shady representative of the resistance movement, say, steals a bunch from the government, he can keep what he needs and sell the rest to fund his activities.”
“But you don’t have any proof of that, do you?” Clark asked, although he could see from the assembled information that she didn’t. It wasn’t a bad theory, though, and certainly it wouldn’t take much imagination to conclude such a thing from the items that she did have.
Lois shook her head and sighed again, then looked up toward him. “The impetuous Lois Lane of old would run over there, put on army fatigues and just fade into the jungle, mingling with the natives, interviewing the freedom fighters. Anything to ferret out the story. Because whatever the origin of these weapons is, it’s not going to be found here in Metropolis.” Her eyes gradually shifted away from Clark and focused off into the distance, her mind probably playing out that scenario. Tamed down or not, Lois still longed for adventure, he knew. His hand gave a light squeeze to her shoulder, drawing her gaze back up to him.
“Do you want me to run over there sometime and take a look? I can take a few pictures and get some nice quotes, and you can pull the whole anonymous source thing to explain their origins. And I won’t contribute a word to the copy or so much as look at the story until after it’s been splashed across the front page and received hearty accolades for its brilliance.” It was something that, in the past, would’ve surely insulted her. To suggest that she couldn’t or shouldn’t go over to the Congo, even if it was in the middle of a war, would’ve surely brought her wrath. She didn’t need protecting, she didn’t need to have superpowers to get to the bottom of the story. Even offering her the headline, with no mention of his contribution, wouldn’t have been enough to soften the blow in the past, but this was a new Lois. There was no anger in her eyes as she gave him a sad smile and nodded.
“I feel bad having to rely on your alter ego for the scoop on this one,” she said, but Clark would hear none of it. He bent over and kissed her gently, then straightened himself up.
“My alter ego doesn’t mind. You stay safe and get the story at the same time, and I get the joy of swatting mosquitoes and meeting Jurassic-era jungle insects. It’s a fair trade, I think.”
Lois laughed lightly, laying a hand on his. “Well, as long as you aren’t complaining about it.” She turned again toward the papers in front of her, then raised her eyebrows. “So, when can I expect my anonymous source to get me this information?”
Clark mentally reviewed his calendar, smiling to himself about the fact that Lois wasn’t going to let him forget that, in this instance as in many others, she was the boss. “Barring any unforeseen disasters, maybe late Friday night or Saturday morning,” he said. Scraping together free time was a feat that even he didn’t have to power to accomplish.
Lois looked at him, amusement on her face, not responding for a moment. As his expression morphed into one of confusion, she finally gave him a wry smile. “You forgot, didn’t you?” she asked.
Clark squinted and shrugged slightly. “Forgot what?” he asked, suddenly not entirely certain that he wasn’t forgetting their wedding anniversary, or her birthday, or any of other dates that he should know well by now.
“What this weekend is.” Clark drew a blank as he stared at her, and she laughed lightly, rising out of the chair. “You’re only going to be the best man.”
Clark’s eyes went wide as his memory was finally jogged. “Oh, right. I’ve only been looking forward to this Saturday every day since Kevin first butted in on one of our dates,” he said, shaking his head, remembering all the times that he and Lois had to restrain themselves on a Friday night because their friend was present.
This weekend, the shoe would finally be on the other foot. Kevin Jones, a middle school teacher and volunteer firefighter in one of the Kansas City suburbs, known as “Uncle Kevin” to the youngest Kent, was finally going to walk down the aisle. The lucky lady was intelligent and sweet, could tell a joke better than anyone Clark had ever met, and had a fine appreciation for the geekier parts of life, namely comic books. She’d first met Kevin, or more precisely his alter ego, at the site of a terrible accident. During a freak snowstorm, I-35 through northern Kansas had been turned into a skating rink, and one small rear-end accident had snowballed, so to speak, due to the bad weather, turning into a fiery multi-car crash. She had been traveling with her family at the time, just another motorist caught in the melee and rescued by Bolt. During the flight to safety, she’d let it slip that she was a fan of his, and then compared him to an obscure comic book character that he swore nobody else except his local comic book shop proprietor knew about. It had been instant love. Of course, Bolt tried to stay above the earthly matters of affection and relationships, and after he had delivered her to a safe place, he had said goodbye just as he would to any normal charge. But Kevin was smitten, and he wasn’t about to just let her go. As the paramedics at site tended to her and the police took her statement, he hovered in the air, surreptitiously observing, jotting down the pertinent information that would lead him to her again. Only after he got what he wanted did he finally leave to continue with his work.
A few days later, at a mall in Lincoln, Nebraska, Kevin Jones finally met Sarah, the woman that Bolt had met on an icy interstate, sans sliver helmet and football jersey. It took the better part of the day to work up the courage to finally drop from the sky and confront her, but when the moment was right he did, and they had hit it off immediately. They’d walked around and spoken until the mall closed down, and then wandered the town and the countryside well into the night, just getting to know each other. He couldn’t bring himself to lie about where he was from or what he did for a living, because those things played so prominently into who he was. But when she asked why he was in Lincoln, he was caught off guard, finally saying that he was there for a seminar at the University. The idea that he was just in town for the weekend gave him an excuse to see her the next day for a real date, which went better than he could’ve imagined. In the ensuing months, he visited her often, making up one excuse or another to explain his presence in Nebraska, although he suspected that she knew he was only there for her. She never seemed all that suspicious that he never arrived in a car, that he always ended up meeting her somewhere. Then, one day he came home from work and there she was, sitting on the front stoop of his home, wearing a San Diego Chargers jersey. In that one moment, she showed him that she knew his secret, then told him that she loved him more because of it. They got engaged that night. In Paris.
Not too long after that, Clark had been surprised to find Bolt at a rather routine traffic accident in Metropolis, which was generally Superman’s exclusive stomping ground. After it was cleaned up, Kevin stopped by to see Lois and Clark, and gave them the good news. Clark was delighted that his friend had finally found someone to compliment him, and he had to admit that Kevin looked happier than Clark could ever remember seeing him. But in the course of conversation, it came up that Sarah didn’t know about Superman, that Kevin had concealed his identity from her, even though she had asked, because it really wasn’t his secret to give. It was an action that rendered Clark speechless for a moment, although Lois gladly picked up the conversation, giving Kevin a squeeze of the hand and thanking him for the gesture. Kevin replied that it was no big deal, but he had to know how much it meant to Clark. In any case, he’d suddenly smiled and invited them out to Kansas City to meet her, a double date, finally, after all these years. Even though Lois was eight months pregnant at the time, she had accepted the invitation before Clark even had a chance to process the thought.
The date was made for that weekend, at a nice restaurant in a crowded part of town, where there were plenty of dark alleys and no nearby parking. Kevin and Sarah were already waiting when they arrived, and Lois, who tended to not get along well with other women, was soon chatting with Sarah as if she was an old friend. Throughout the meal, the conversation flowed, the laughter came often, but there was no mention of superheroes, no talk of where Lois and Clark were from or what they did for a living. He caught Sarah looking at him from time to time, a sparkle in her eye and an odd smile on her face, but he really didn’t think much of it. Not until, a couple of days later, Superman made an appearance in Kansas City to help Bolt tame a vicious fire in a historic section of town. Once the situation was handled, Bolt had asked Superman to follow him to a quiet spot nearby, where Sarah waited anxiously, giving her fiancée a kiss upon arrival. Bolt had then formally introduced Sarah to Superman, and as she smiled and reached for Clark’s hand, she asked him how Lois was doing, and all he could do was smile. Kevin swore that he didn’t let the cat out of the bag, although Clark didn’t mind her knowing.
And now they were getting married, and Clark had somehow managed to forget, he thought, still shaking his head. He had looked forward to paying Kevin back for the bachelor party thrown for Clark at his wedding. He had looked forward getting back to the Midwest for a few days and hanging out with some of his old college buddies. He had looked forward to a nice, uninterrupted weekend with his family, proudly showing off his wife and son to acquaintances that he hadn’t seen in years. And now he wanted to ruin all that by pulling off this trip to the Congo?
“I know I was supposed to look after Jonathan tonight while you take that tai-kwan-do class, but do you think you can drop him off at your sister’s place instead?” he asked, suddenly wanting to get the story wrapped up as soon as possible. After all, it wasn’t fair to Lois to have this story hanging over her during their weekend away, either.
Lois raised her eyebrows. “You want to go over there tonight?” she asked, skepticism in her voice.
Clark shrugged. “Sure, why not? It might be nice to get this over with. Leaves me more time to plan the bachelor party.”
Lois smiled, then looked down at the mess on her desk. “You need to read...?” she asked, pointing toward the papers, then looking expectantly toward Clark. He just gave her a mischievous smile, one that secretly told her that he already had, at super speed, of course, and that she shouldn’t need to ask. Lois quickly closed the gap between them and wrapped her arm around his waist, laying her hand on his chest. “Well then, bag me an exclusive,” she said, discreetly reaching up for his tie.
Clark put his hand over hers, stilling her movement, then leaned over to give her a tender kiss. When he pulled back he glanced toward his desk. “Tell Perry I’ll get him that piece on President Heston first thing in the morning. And if Lucy asks, tell her that I’m really a superhero, out saving the world from something, and that’s why she has to babysit again.”
Lois laughed. “Well, I’ve used that one before, but something tells me that she won’t believe it this time either,” Lois said. She reached up and gave him another quick peck on the cheek, then sat down again, her eyes locking into his. “Be safe,” she said. At his nod, she turned back to her work, quickly arranging the papers and picking up a pencil, getting her notes together.
Clark watched her for a moment, then sighed and started toward the stairwell, grabbing at the knot in his tie as he walked. He never enjoyed leaving her for trouble on the other side of the world, but he knew that, no matter what it took, he would always find his way back. And given the choice, he would rather be the one leaving than the one sitting there, telling her to be safe as she took off toward danger. If he ever lost her, he would surely lose the best part of himself, and he would do anything, ANYTHING, to make sure that didn’t happen.
Finding the stairwell empty, he lazily spun into the Suit and sped toward the roof and off into the air, thoughts of Lois still running through his mind. A chance bolt from the blue had led him to Metropolis, to her. What if he hadn’t been struck by lightning that day? What if Bolt hadn’t been there to give him the courage and inspiration to follow his destiny? Would he still be with Lana right now, trying to convince himself that she was right for him, that she loved him? Would Lois have survived the dangers and risks that she took for the sake of a story without a superhero around to watch over her? As Metropolis fell away behind him, Clark closed is eyes and drove those thoughts away. It didn’t do any good to dwell on what could’ve been, or how different the world would be if not for one chance occurrence. The fact was that the world was what it was, and he certainly couldn’t complain about the way things had worked out. He was happy, content, glad that fortune had seen clear to give him the life that he had. He could only smile as he opened his eyes again, pushed his arms out to his side, and enjoyed the wind in his hair and the beauty of the ocean below.
-/-\-
As a streak of blue and red made its way through the skies above Metropolis, a man emerged in a puff of smoke from a dark alley. The crack of thunder caused him to look up into the cloudless sky, easily spotting the form of the city’s famous protector. He frowned as his eyes came back to the street around him. People bustled on the sidewalks around him, making their way toward unknown destinations, none overly concerned with the loud rumble that still reverberated though the streets and alleys. Toward the end of the block, he spotted a newsstand, and quickly made his way toward it.
Prominent among the stacks of newspapers at the small stand was the Daily Planet, the front page telling of a political scandal in Washington. The proprietor of the stand seemed somewhat concerned as the man picked up the paper and began to leaf through it, his frown deepening as he scanned the stories contained within. Bolt, helping at a train derailment in Texas, Superman containing oil spilled from a grounded tanker in Alaska. Other headlines, written under the heading of Lois Lane and Clark Kent, the two star reporters of the revitalized Daily Planet.
“No, this won’t do,” the man muttered, sloppily folding the paper and placing it back on the pile. Somehow, there were two super beings in this world, two people who would have to be defeated if he were to succeed with his plan. Lane and Kent seemed to be almost more formidable here than in other places he had visited, their accomplishments listed in the Planet advertising impressive indeed. No, this definitely wouldn’t do, he thought, making his way back toward the alley he had first emerged from.
As he turned the corner and began to fade into the shadows cast by the neighboring buildings, two young men shot out of the darkness, each making contact with him on their way by.
“Cretins,” the man said, watching them for a moment, pondering what he would do if he could lay his hands on them. In the end, though, he sighed and continued into the depths of the alley, vanishing a few moments later in a puff of smoke, bound for a different world. Somewhere, he knew, he would find a world without Superman. He would just need to keep looking.
THE END
