Well, I have to try out the new English words that I pick up, so here goes, sucker-punched. I guess it is a negative word, with negative connotations. But if you, angelic_editor, can have Clark say to Lois that she has wrecked him in the best possible way, then surely I can say about your story that it sucker-punched me? And the longer it went on, the more I felt it land blow after blow on my solar-plexus, taking my breath away.
The opening bit of song lyric was extremely appropriate as usual, though not quite of breath-stealing caliber. Earlier, I have felt that the song lyrics you have quoted were Lois's words, or thoughts, to Clark. But this time I wonder if it is not Clark who is speaking to Lois:
I pull you from your tower
I take away your pain
I show you all the beauty you possess
If you'd only let yourself believe ...
Clark and Lois have a date, in the aftermath of their fiasco with the woman and her comatose son, whom Clark had saved. Lois couldn't understand that Clark wanted to protect this mother from the harsh scrutiny of the outside world, so she went ahead and interviewed the mother, feeling rejected by Clark's odd, cool behaviour towards her. And now they are trying to mend fences....
Clark can't find Lois when he's looking for her. Well, how typical is that???? And Lois, who's been picking up groceries, certainly isn't having her best day, either. The way you describe her situation, after walking up four flights of stairs cradling two bags of groceries in her arms, then trying to find her keys in her too-big purse (isn't it always too big when you are trying to find your keys in it???) while at the same time trying to make the same purse remain hanging from her shoulder and not fall down and land jarringly on her forearm (I'm so slope-shouldered that I gave up carrying my purse on my shoulder twenty years ago), well - if that isn't enough to make you sympathize and empathize with Lois's exasperating situation, then you can't ever have been in an exasperating situation yourself. (Though I have to ask all of you Americans out there: Why, oh
why do you insist on having grocery bags without handles? Is it because of some character-building idea of yours that a bit of suffering is good for the soul? Or - <evil feminist rearing head> - is it because it's usually the women who buy the groceries anyway, and if you can't keep them barefoot and pregnant like you used to, making them stagger under an impossible armful of groceries is the next best way of keeping them docile?)
Well, if that wasn't an example of a Lois Lane Wannabe in full, runaway babble mode, I don't know what is! So let's get back to your story. Clark' words aren't flowing as easily as mine, after he has appeared on Lois's doorstep to save her from her groceries/purse/keys conundrum:
She blinked.
"Clark?" What are you doing here?
Her dark eyes searched his face.
The scrutiny made Clark uncomfortable. His mouth was suddenly dry. He felt too warm. He'd forgotten everything he wanted to say, pinned by Lois' penetrating gaze.
Focus. You're here to finally make this right.
His heartbeat reverberated in his ears, a deafening cadence to his paralysing ineptitude.
Don't mess this up.
"Hi," he said, willing his voice to remain steady.
Ouch! Groan! Clark, is that the best you can do? "Hi?" Don't you think Lois expected, well, a little more from you? She did, I can tell you.
That's it? 'Hi' - that's the best you can do? Where were you this afternoon? I waited for you to come back to the office, and you never did. That hurt, you inconsiderate bastard.
Ah, but Lois isn't that good herself at vocalizing her feelings:
"Hi," she said finally. "Um - thanks."
Oh, the human tragicomedy! All the thoughts that keep roiling in our heads, and the pathetic few words we manage to utter! Hey, there's something ever so slightly Shakespearian about this. To be tongue-tied, or not to be tongue-tied, that is the question!
Well, Lois and Clark both do better after a while. They limber up their speech organs by commenting on Lois' comfort food. (I'd appreciate it if you'd tell me what Ben & Jerry's Phish Food is - it sounds like cat food to me, but seeing that they sell it by the pint, I suppose it could be ice cream. Fish-flavored?)
After that, Lois and Clark seriously get down to business, namely, they talk about themselves. Them. As in a couple. And let me tell you, angelic_editor, that if Lois sucker-punched Clark by this, it's nothing compared with what she did to me:
"I'm wondering - " Her breath hitched, and she drew a deep breath. Be strong. Be honest. "I'm wondering if you're worth it, Clark."
I'm wondering if you are worth it, Clark.... No. Nonononono. Don't you know there's only so much I can take in terms of this kind of rejection? The rejection
by Lois,
of Clark? Now I know what a knock-out feels like. Honestly, you have me reeling.
But Lois does offer Clark a life-line. He is drowning, but he might find a way to save his own life:
"Convince me," she challenged, standing with her arms crossed. "Right now. You can save the world, right? Well, now you can save this supposed relationship."
Ahh! Gaaah, what a challenge. Convince Lois, be honest with her, show her your love... but don't go all overboard, don't scare her. Maybe you can't tell her
everything that you feel?
"Lois, you don't know how important you are to me. You're my reason - " He cleared his throat, his eyes still focused on the floor.
Whoa, too fast, Clark! Slow down!
"You were the whole inspiration for Superman. It was you and your brilliance that allowed me to help Metropolis - and the world - in a way that I can still have some sort of normal life.
Yes, nice and easy, Clark!
"But more than that, you keep me going. You... you've wrecked me, Lois, in the best possible way. You inspire me. You keep me sane. And I love you for it, and for so much more. I've been in love with you for so long, and I don't know what I'd do if you weren't part of my life."
Ummm. Sounds good, Clark. I think she should like this. But - oh no - she's crying! Is she upset? Is it your fault?
"No," she said again, sniffling. "I'm sorry I'm crying, but I'm not upset. I just didn't know. I didn't know, Clark - I didn't know.
What exactly was it you didn't know, Lois? Could it be this?
"I didn't know how much I meant to you," she finished in a small voice.
So how much, exactly, does she mean to you, Clark? Should you try to quantify it, down to how many decimal points? No, just give her the short answer:
"I can't save everyone - I know it, but that doesn't make it any less painful," he continued, his voice raw with emotion. "But you - you save me, Lois. Every day."
Well, uh.... so what more do you want me to say, editor? I can't say more, honestly! I
am speechless! Oh, the loveliness of it.... Oh, wow....
Hmmm...? Yes. Time to end this feedback now, eh? Ah. Look, there's a computer in front of me. On my desk. Hmm. Reality. Yes. OK, editor, that's it for now. You bet I'm looking forward to the next instalment, but just promise me one thing. Please let Lois feel a little more certain of Clark's love in the next chapter, ok? But, honestly, I don't doubt that you will.
Ann (still reeling)
