Lucy gathered up their fast food dinner trash and tried to compress it into a smaller mass. Clark looked at her as if he were trying to decide whether or not to ask what she was doing, so she said, “I always do this. Takes up less space in the trash can. I try to make it as small as possible.”
“Good thinking.” He smiled and put out one hand. “Allow me, please.” He took the crumpled bag and quickly smashed it into a cardboard softball.
She shook her head. “Man, you’re strong. I couldn’t get it that small if I jumped up and down on it.”
He quirked one eyebrow and tossed the compacted trash back and forth between his hands. “It’s all in the wrists.”
“Yeah, well, I think you’d best get going while you still have some light. I assume you’re going to stop somewhere and get some sleep.”
“It’s about twenty-two hours of drive time from here to Smallville, so I’ll probably grab a nap somewhere along the way. Thank you for your care and concern, but I’ll be fine.”
“Okay, if you say so.” She stood and gestured at the few boxes on the floor. “Which one of these can I carry without hurting myself?”
*****
It was time to say goodbye. Clark didn’t want to go, but he knew he had no viable alternatives.
For the first time in his life, he understood what a broken heart really felt like.
Lucy tossed the rope to secure the tarp over the boxes stacked in the truck’s bed to Clark. He caught it and knotted it to the cleat on that side, then checked the tension on the rope ties. “I think I’m good to go. Thanks for your help. And for dinner. It was fun.”
“I enjoyed it too.” She looked at the truck again, then plucked one of the lines holding it down. “Yeah, that tarp isn’t going anywhere any time soon. Have you checked the weather forecasts on the way?”
He nodded. “I should have clear sailing until I get to the middle of Illinois. I may stop overnight there if I can find a dry place to park.”
Lucy didn’t answer right away. She took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then sighed. “I wish you weren’t leaving.”
Clark walked to the passenger side of the truck where Lucy stood and leaned against the side panel. “I do too. But I don’t think Lois is going to change her mind now.”
She crossed her arms and huffed. “Me neither. And I’m really gonna give her a piece of my mind tonight!”
“Not too much, I hope. You’ll need it.”
“Huh?”
“Your mind. You’ll need it to keep up with your classes.”
“Oh.” She chuckled. “I got it. Hey, big man, you take care of yourself, okay? Write me a long letter or three and let me know how you’re doing back in Flatland.”
“I will.” He took her hands in his and said, “Goodbye, Lucy. I wish I’d known you better. You’re a good person.”
She smiled. “Thanks. Hey, how about a going-away present?”
“I thought your present was our chicken dinner.”
“Nah, that was a freebie.” She reached up and pulled his head down, then kissed his cheek. “That’s from me.” Then she put her hands on either side of his head and kissed him softly on the mouth and held it. When she pulled away, she left her hands on his face, then breathed, “And that’s from Lois.”
He felt himself blinking. “Wow.” He slowly straightened, then said, “I assume she didn’t ask you to pass that on.”
Her smile melted. “No, she did not. And she’s an idiot. I almost wish you’d fallen for me instead. I don’t care what your secret is, I could’ve handled it.”
He locked eyes with her for a moment, then nodded. “I think maybe you could have.” Then he pulled out of the embrace and looked at his watch. “Sorry, Lucy, but I have to get going now if I want to get to Smallville before midnight tomorrow. Thank you for dinner, thank you for helping me load up and tie down, and thank you for your friendship. I won’t forget it.”
She lifted one hand as if she were about to touch his face, then lowered it. “I won’t forget you either, Clark. You’re a good man and I hope you have a good life.”
“You too. Bye now.”
He pulled his keyring out of his pocket and locked the front door. Then he took that key off the ring, put it in an envelope, and dropped it into his landlord’s mailbox. Floyd had been very nice about Clark’s abrupt departure, since he had a clean, attractive apartment to rent. Clark had even gotten his security deposit back. He hoped the next tenant would take care of the place.
He turned to see Lucy standing beside Lois’ Jeep with a forlorn expression on her face. He waved to her, then climbed into the truck and started it. The big V8 engine roared to life, and he pulled out on the street, headed for the interstate onramp.
His last glimpse of Lucy in his rearview mirror showed her still standing beside Lois’ Jeep with her arms crossed and her shoulders drooping.
He wriggled in the seat and took a deep breath. Too bad he had to drive all this way – Superman could have carried the truck to his parents’ farm in about fifteen minutes, assuming he’d tied down the tarp properly.
No matter. He was leaving a big part of his dreams behind in Metropolis. But he still had a job, he still had friends, and he still had Superman. He could – and would – continue patrolling the city. Distance was not really a big problem for him.
And he was sure to encounter Lois on one of those patrols. They would be formal encounters, maybe even a little unfriendly. She’d try to restrain her volcanic fury and ask questions in a calm tone. He’d be standoffish and a bit cold to her. He wouldn’t be deliberately rude, but he wouldn’t smile at her, either. Of course, she probably wouldn’t want him to be nice to her.
He refused to let himself imagine her greeting Superman and calling him “Clark” in front of the entire city press corps.
Surely she wasn’t that angry.
But wouldn’t bet real money on it.
*****
Lois looked up from the kitchen sink where she was washing dishes when the door opened. “Lucy!” she yelled. “That you?”
“Yes.”
“Are you in for the night?”
The sound of locks being fastened was clear over the noise Lois was making. “Yes.”
Lois shut off the water and turned to face the kitchen doorway. “Are you going to stick to one-word answers tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, I don’t think so.” Lois dried her hands and threw the towel on the cabinet as she marched to the living room. “Hey, Punky, what’s the matter?”
Lucy stopped halfway to the bathroom and turned. She looked as angry as Lois had ever seen her. “Don’t. Call. Me. Punky.” She paused for a long, deep breath. “Not tonight.”
“Why not?”
Lucy took two quick steps toward her sister and stopped just out of reach. “I went to see Clark. I wanted him to know that at least one Lane sister cared about him.”
Lois’ face darkened. “I told you, I don’t want to hear about – about that guy. You want to talk to him, date him, move in with him, marry him, go ahead! I don’t give a – a hoot!”
“I’m going to tell you this much. He left for Smallville tonight. He put most of his belongings in storage and packed up a pickup truck with what he’ll need at his parents’ place. And he didn’t want to go.”
“All that matters is that he’s gone.”
“He’s driving by himself. It’s about two full days of driving, too. He’ll be exhausted when he gets there. And you don’t give a flying flip, do you.”
“No. I don’t. All I wanted was him gone and now he is. I’m happy.”
“You say that now. You say he’s hurt you, but I know you ripped out his heart and stomped on it right in front of him. You have no idea how deeply you’ve hurt him.”
“What about what he did to me? He lied to me for two years!”
Lucy waved one hand across her body as if batting a fly. “So what? If you really loved him like you said you did, you’d figure out a way to forgive him. But no, the great Lois Lane, Ms. Perfect Personality herself, can’t abide imperfection in the man she claims to love. She’d rather push him out of her life than do the hard work of fixing the relationship. You have no—”
“That’s enough!” Lois screamed.
The two sisters glared at each other, both on the knife edge of throwing punches and kicks. Lois fumed silently, panting through clenched teeth.
Lucy can’t know what I know about Clark! She doesn’t realize how deeply he hurt me, how thoroughly he betrayed me! She doesn’t understand all that I’ve gone through in my life! She has no right to criticize me! Lois finally broke the staring match and spun back toward the kitchen. Lucy growled, “You know I’m right about this.”
Lois stopped and half-turned. “No! You’re wrong!”
“Clark is a good man. Better than you deserve, especially right now. You—”
“I said
that’s enough!” Lois snarled back. “You can do whatever you want with or to or about that man but I do not want to hear about it!”
“That’s because you’re afraid to hear the truth!”
Lois bounded back into the living room and shoved Lucy in the chest, hard, with both hands. Lucy fell to the floor on her back and missed hitting her head on the table by inches. Lois stood over her, panting, her hands curled into claws.
Lucy slowly got to her feet. “That’s your free shot. You won’t get another.” She turned toward her bedroom, then stopped and faced Lois again. “I’m going to say this right to your face so you’ll know I mean it. Lois Lane, you are my sister and I love you, but right now, right at this moment, you have to be the stupidest, most idiotic bitch who has ever walked the earth. If Clark Kent loved me like he loves you, I wouldn’t care if he came from Saturn, had eight toes on each foot, and ate live lizards for breakfast. You don’t deserve him. I hope you never see him again, because you’d just hurt him worse.”
Lucy held her ground for a moment, then turned and walked into her bedroom. She shut the door gently and Lois heard the lock click.
Lois’s feet might as well have been super-glued to the floor. Not since their early teen years had they had a fight like this one. And not since Lucy was nine had she cursed at Lois.
It was almost enough to make her consider changing her mind about—
NO!
She wouldn’t back down, not on this and not with Clark. He was a liar! He used her, teased her, made her think he really cared, then he slapped her in the face with this – this thing! How could he think she’d understand? How could he think she’d forgive him?
She flung herself on the couch and grabbed a pillow. She started to scream into it but could only sob.
She cried herself to sleep on the couch that night.
*****
After he dropped off several personal messages at the Planet’s front desk, said messages to be delivered to Perry’s desk first thing in the morning, Clark left the city and drove west on I-70. He continued until the weather closed in around five a.m., then pulled into a Love’s Travel Stop and Truck Stop just north of Richmond, Indiana. There was a covered parking area with a few spaces open. He pulled into the one he thought would best shield the truck from the rain and turned off the engine.
This was a part of the state over which he’d flown many times, but he’d never gone to ground here. It was much like Kansas, mostly farm country, just a bit greener and with a few more hills. He wasn’t sleepy, but since he was parked here anyway, he decided to brave the rain and grab breakfast.
The coffee-skinned waitress was young, slender, of medium height, with her Afro mostly contained in a hair net. She stopped in front of Clark with her eyes on the order pad in her hand and muttered, “What’cha want?”
Apparently her smile hadn’t awakened yet that morning. That was okay with him, though – Clark didn’t feel like smiling either. “Stack of pancakes, side of bacon – make it really crisp, please, so it doesn’t bend when you lift it – two slices of toast with strawberry preserves, a tall glass of water and a cup of coffee.”
Her eyes lifted after she stopped writing. “Anything else? We got a couple o’ boxes of Krispy Kreme doughnuts fresh from their store. And some bagels with sour cream, too. Supposed to be just like the ones in Metropolis.”
He smiled reflexively. “Maybe after breakfast. Have to watch my waistline, you know.”
Still missing a smile, she nodded. “Name’s Deidre if you need anything.”
“What’s your name if I don’t need anything?”
She gave him a sleepy glare for a long breath, then said, “Too early, honey. Lemme get them pancakes. You want maple syrup?”
“You have any strawberry?”
She shook her head. “Sorry, sweetie. This ain’t IHOP with them ninety-two dozen flavors of syrup. We got maple, buttermilk, and honey.”
“Maple’s fine. Thank you, Deidre.”
Deidre nodded once, tore off the order slip, and put it on the rotating holder in front of the kitchen. “Hank!” she called. “Make this bacon crisp, okay? Customer says if it bends it ain’t right, so pick it up with a fork before you call me.”
“Yeah, yeah,” came the reply. “I’ll make it crisp.”
“Just don’t burn it this time!”
All Clark could hear in return was someone he assumed was Hank muttering unintelligibly under his breath. Another day he would’ve been amused by their byplay. Not today.
A customer had left a newspaper a couple of seats away. Clark leaned over and picked it up, then refolded it to see the front page.
It was the sports section of the Wednesday morning edition of the Palladium-Item from Richmond. The front page headline read Metro Tigers Rally Late, Beat Visiting Chicago Cubs In Ninth Inning on Monday Night.
Must be a slow news day in Richmond.
He turned to the comics page and caught up with the Peanuts gang, the latest antics at Dilbert’s unnamed company, and looked at the ongoing tale of woe involving two married couples in a theater group. The men were angry with each other over something about one of the wives having smiled at a third man. At least, that’s what Clark thought it was about. It was hard to tell from just those four panels, especially since he didn’t follow that particular strip.
Deidre brought his water and toast. “Pancakes be here in a couple’a minutes. Hank had to
mix up some fresh batter. Here’s your butter and strawberry cheese.”
As she clomped away, he shook his head at the plastic containers beside his toast. Oh, well, not everywhere can be Metropolis. At least they weren’t expired. Maybe he’d get a bagel and coffee to go.
*****
The rain fell with varying intensity for over an hour. Clark sat in the truck and used the time to leaf through the newspaper he’d scrounged from the diner as he slowly consumed his bagel. As he’d expected, the cream cheese in its plastic packet was just a bit on the chewy side, but not quite inedible. It did have a funny aftertaste, though, one that made him glad he was Kryptonian.
As the rain slacked off, he got out and made a circuit around the truck to make sure the tarp was still secure. A glance at his watch told him he could probably call his parents without waking them up, assuming they’d slept the night before. During their last phone call, they’d alternated between excitement that he was coming home and despair that his relationship with Lois seemed to have crashed and burned.
They had also told him that Mark Harris would probably go home on Thursday, assuming he kept improving. The man would be in for some surgery on his legs down the road, and he’d definitely need physical therapy for a couple of months. His mom had also shared the story of Rachel’s CPR rescue of her dad in the hospital. Clark had laughed obligingly and promised to visit Mark when he went back home.
He sat in the truck and dialed his parents’ number. It only rang once before his dad’s hearty “Hello, Son! Martha! Get on the extension! It’s Clark!” boomed through the tinny cell phone.
Good. They’d finally gotten caller ID. “Hi, Dad. I’m stopped just across the Indiana state line waiting for the rain to stop. I figure if I don’t come up on any wrecks or really busy construction zones, I should be in your driveway before dark tonight.”
“Martha, I told you he’d be here this evening. Hot dog, our boy’s coming home!”
Clark laughed. “Take it easy, Dad. You’ve seen me in the last couple of weeks.”
“Yes, but now you’re coming back home! Have I got some chores lined up for you!”
“Jonathan! You keep at him like that and he’ll rent a place in Wichita just to get some peace and quiet!”
Clark laughed again. “It’s okay, Mom. I don’t mind helping out. Hey, Dad, I was thinking while I was driving, and I wondered if there was a corner of the barn you don’t have to use.”
“A corner of the barn?”
“I’m going to need an office, and my old bedroom isn’t big enough. I’ll need grounded and regulated electrical outlets, a file cabinet, a desk and chair, a couple of lamps, a bookshelf, access to a modem, and a few other things. I’ll do all the work myself, assuming you have a corner you can reserve for me.”
“Hmm. Yes, I think I know just the place. What about the far corner of the barn under the hayloft? You could either put wood panels under the loft floor or put in a mini-roof for the office. Is this something that needs to be secure?”
“Against weather, cows, insects, and the occasional child miscreant, yes. I guess I’ll need a fan, too, maybe even a small air conditioner to keep the computer cool and the printer paper dry. But that’s for later. We’ll brainstorm for a day or so and see what comes out. And I won’t need it for a few days. Perry told me yesterday that doesn’t expect my first story until Wednesday of next week so he can put it in the Thursday morning edition.”
“I think we can make that work, Son. Like you said, we’ll brainstorm until we come up with something good.”
“Thanks, Dad. Hey, I think the rain’s stopped. I need to get back on the road so I can have a late dinner with you guys tonight.”
“We’ll wait dinner on you, sweetie.”
“Oh, Mom, please don’t. I can’t guarantee my arrival time. As long as you have something I can heat up quick, I’ll be fine.”
“If you say so. And I’m going to make sure your room is ready for you.”
“Thanks, Mom. Bye, you two. I’ll see you this evening, hopefully before your bedtime.”
“It will be.”
“Don’t wait up for me. I might be late. If that happens, I’ll try to call before eight to let you know. And if I’m still too far out, I’ll just find a place to sleep and drive in tomorrow.”
“That’s fine, sweetie. Drive safely.”
“We’ll leave the porch light on for you, Son.”
“Thanks again. You two have a good day.”
Martha giggled. “My son’s coming home! Of course it’s a good day!”
Clark smiled despite himself. “If I don’t get off the phone soon, I’ll have to pay rent here where I’m parked. See you guys tonight.”
He pushed the “off” button and shook his head. His parents were such good people, and they loved him unfailingly. They were exactly what he needed right now.
He wondered for a moment how long he’d miss Lois so much that his chest felt empty.
It wasn’t fair that he be the only one in such pain. He hoped his good-bye letter to her would have an impact. It wasn’t a nice hope, and it wasn’t in character for him, but at the moment he didn’t care one whit. Pain like his should be shared.
Especially with the one who’d created it.
Comment thread here
