Chapter 6
Last night at work, Pamela had filled me in on her visit with Jack, her second one now. He’d declined the services of Lex’s lawyer and was trying to hire Pamela, something that she was reluctant to do but she had agreed to give him limited legal advice and help find a better lawyer for his case. In the meantime, she’d insisted I visit. I can’t imagine Jack’s confusion when he was informed that his ‘aunt’ was helping.
I sit in the visitor area waiting, nervously fiddling with a button on the cardigan I’m wearing. I’ve tried to make myself look as old and frumpy as I can, on the slim possibility that Jack won’t recognize me.
He will, though. He’s a smart kid.
Wells had said to not let anyone know who I am, but I’ve hit a wall and I’m going to take the chance. There’s something about Jack that makes me believe I can trust him with this secret.
When I returned to Metropolis after Lex’s death, I heard from Perry that Jack had been released and all charges had been dropped. When the Planet had finally reopened, Jack had refused to return. Still reeling from Clark’s decision to not return to the Planet, I’d chased Jack down, determined to convince him to come back.
I hadn’t been prepared for Jack’s bitterness and anger.
Expecting some resentment towards me as the fiancé of the man who framed him, and having done nothing to help exonerate him, I was deeply shocked at his accusations that I had been the one to drive Clark away.
Truthfully, I’d blamed myself for years for both Clark’s and Superman’s exit from my life, but I had always assumed those private conversations I’d had with both had stayed confidential. Listening to Jack’s bitter tirade, I’d wondered how much Clark had told him. The last words from Jack had been a warning for me to not rely on Superman’s help in the future and at the time I had wanted to snap back, remind Jack that I was still Lois Lane, friend to Superman. No one in the world had known about that night in my apartment but as the days of no Superman sightings turned into weeks of very limited sightings in Metropolis, I began to wonder what Jack had discovered.
I’d never seen Jack again. He left Metropolis almost immediately after I had spoken with him, and the next time he’d appeared was in a news headline announcing his arrest as part of a high tech hacking group. I hadn’t thought about him in years.
A buzzer sounds, bringing me back to the present, and several guards followed by young men in orange jumpsuits enter the room. I can see Jack looking around and I wave.
“What are you doing here?” he demands rudely, instantly seeing through my disguise.
“I need your help. Well, you need my help.”
“What makes you think I’ll take your help?”
“You already did.” When he frowned deeper I continued. “Pamela. Your new lawyer?”
“She was quite clear that she couldn’t be my lawyer, but it was enough to get rid of the lawyer on Luthor’s payroll.”
“You can thank me for that later.”
“What!” Jack exclaimed, getting the attention of a guard who began to approach.
“Jack…”
“Look, you use a pseudonym to get in to see me, so you don’t want everyone knowing the great Lois Lane is visiting, and you show up in this disguise? What’s with the glasses? It’s really easy to see who you are once you know what to look for.”
I nervously push the glasses I’d worn in hopes of helping cover up my identity, further up my nose hoping that no one around us has heard him identify me. The last thing I need is Lex finding out.
Taking a deep breath I take the hat off my head and roll up the left sleeve of my blouse exposing my grey hair that I haven’t touched up yet, and the scar on my elbow from a surgery I had a few years ago. Jack pauses and I put the hat back on wondering if Jack figured it out. I don’t feel any different, and nothing has happened like Wells had me believe.
“How…?”
“I can’t tell you. I need your help. Clark needs your help.”
Jack laughs shortly. “Clark doesn’t need my help. Trust me. He could get me out of here in a flash but he doesn’t.”
I’m confused at Jack’s statement. Does Clark have evidence of Jack being framed and hasn’t handed it in to the police?
“I’m going to get you out of here but then I need you to find Jimmy and both of you go and help Clark.”
“Fine. And just how am I supposed to escape?”
I don’t know yet. “You’ll know.”
My heart is hammering in my ears. I’m shaking after exposing my identity to Jack and I need to get out of here before I faint.
“You ok?”
“I’m fine. I’ve gotta run.”
Hastily, I stand and head to the exit leaving a bewildered Jack behind.
****
Now I’ve got a problem; how to get Jack out of juvie, and I’ve been trying to puzzle through it for the last two days.
“Hey, can we get our order taken?”
The obnoxious call shakes me out of my thoughts and I head over to a table of patrons who had been waiting patiently. Their orders taken and delivered to Pamela, I return to the table of rude customers.
“Hi, what can I get for you?” I ask as sickly sweet as I can.
As the three men order, I notice the younger looking one nervously fidgeting with the menu. He ordered but his behaviour made me suspicious. I thank them and go attend to another patron for a refill. While I bustle around on this abnormally busy Wednesday evening, snippets of conversation from the increasingly boorish table of customers reaches my ears.
“We’re just not going to pay that much,” the older guy with the beard says.
“You think I’m not worth it? You know the job I just pulled off.”
“Yeah, with your brother who’s disappeared,” another one laughs.
I move out of hearing range as the younger man continues to plead his worth. While I pass back and forth, clearing a few tables and bringing orders out, the snippets of conversation I hear are concerning. The young man has recently done a high profile job, is trying to convince the other men for more work, and if any of it is within the law, I’ll eat my giant sun hat.
“Hey, lady! Can we get our drinks?”
“Sorry guys, it’s been a bit busy. I’ll be right there,” I say as flirtatiously as I can manage.
The men laugh and one winks while I walk away.
“There you go, Black,” I overhear one of the men say. “You looking for work, sounds like she needs a hand.”
As the men laugh at the younger man’s expense, I start piecing together what was just said, and turn around, smiling sweetly at the group.
“Just need to see some ID and I’ll bring your order over,” I ask. It wasn’t unusual as I checked a few tables a night as required. It wasn’t often someone underage snuck in but there had been a rash of inspections lately and tonight, not anticipating the busy night, we don’t have someone at the door to check.
The men grumble but show their ID’s, even the young looking guy. His ID is fake, it’s a good fake, but the birth year has been changed manually. I notice his name, and try to compose myself.
“Thanks guys. I’ll be right over.”
Shaking, I head back to the bar, pick up the tray with their drinks on it trying to think of a way to use what I’ve just learned, feeling light-headed. As I turn around, my vision blurs and I trip over one of the stools at the bar, the entire tray of beverages crashing to the ground. There’s a few cries asking if I’m ok, and raucous laughter from the table where the rude customers are. Standing, I see Pamela’s disapproving glare and I beckon her closer.
“Kid’s got a fake ID,” I whisper hoping she won’t ask about my sudden clumsiness.
She’s still scowling at me, but nods.
“I’ll take care of it,” she says loudly. “Go clean yourself up.”
While I leave for the staff bathroom behind the stockroom, I see Pamela walking over to the table with a fresh tray of drinks. I dare not linger and watch, but as I find a spare shirt to change into, I can hear more laughter and some shouting. By the time I return, the young man, Pete Black, is gone and the men at his table are happily consuming their drinks.
“What was all that about?” Pamela asks as I return to serving the tables.
“That’s the kid that framed Jack.” The snippets of conversation had been enough to pique my interest, and the name had jogged my memory.
“I thought you didn’t have anything to prove his innocence?”
“I don’t,” I sigh. “It’s a long story.”
“Can someone call the cops?” A young woman shouts from the doorway putting a stop to any more of Pamela’s questions. “There’s a guy out here that tried to attack my friend.”
I grab the phone and dial 911 while Pamela and the barman rush to the door.
The busy night ended shortly after that. The police arrived and arrest Pete Black who had, after being kicked out of the bar, tried to beat up the first person he saw. His group of ‘friends’ left in all of the kerfuffle, paying their tab and leaving a generous tip.
Pamela watched me as we cleaned up, and I could see the lawyer mask slip on as she held back her unasked questions. As we said goodnight and I headed home, I knew she’d be asking more questions tomorrow.
****
I wake earlier than usual feeling restless after the excitement last night and opt for a walk to get coffee rather than drinking the instant sludge I have been making in my room. With a decent coffee in my hand, I find myself walking toward Clinton Street and took a seat at the bus stop nearby. I’d used the shelter at the bus stop several times already as a good spot to sit and watch Clark’s apartment, and whenever a bus appeared, I’d pretend I’d forgotten something at home and wander off. Today, there was no one waiting, and when a bus pulled up, I waved him by.
As the bus rolled away in a cloud of exhaust, I spot Clark leaving his building, dressed in jeans and a plain t-shirt, jogging lightly down the steps and briskly walking in my direction. I duck behind the large poster on the one side of the bus shelter, and step out after he passes by.
I’d followed Clark a few times over the last few days, which had proved to be a challenge. He’d leave his apartment, and I’d have no problem following him at a distance but then he’d vanish into thin air. Admittedly, it had been several years since I’d tailed someone on foot, but I hadn’t thought my skills had become that rusty. I had yet to follow him somewhere and then back to his apartment and it was driving me nuts. Where was he going and what was he doing? As far as I can tell no one stops by.
As I follow him, the sidewalks get busier and busier the closer to downtown we get. Stopping at a traffic light and unwilling to lose him yet again, I try to stay a few people behind him, hoping the larger group of pedestrians would hide me. He is so close I could touch him if I reached out, and I use every ounce of willpower not to.
The light turns and the pedestrians start to cross, Clark crossing with them. I stay on the corner, rooted in place, feeling overcome with sorrow. Abandoning the attempt to follow him, I turn and walk briskly to the Apollo, choking tears back. Once inside my room I fling myself onto the bed and cry.
I cry for the lost friendship, the hurt I had caused him and the hole that I had created in my life.
When the tears subside, I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, pondering the things I had chosen not to for years.
When I’d returned to Metropolis, I’d kept to my mother’s apartment, waiting for the media storm around the news of Lex’s criminal actions to fade a little after his death, and it was several weeks before the gossip began to settle. In that time, the Planet was being repaired under the new ownership which Perry had arranged, and then he had to hire new staff as there were some that had moved on, relocated, and would not be returning, Cat amongst them. She moved to L.A, and eventually became one of the most sought after fashion reporters based out of Europe. She was the only one I could remember that I had been somewhat friendly with, and I wasn’t going to interfere with her life right now; it had turned out pretty spectacular.
But, Clark… I’d hoped for weeks to hear from him. Every phone call made my heart leap for longer than I cared to remember, just on the off chance it was him. Perry and I had lunch one day where I’d finally asked if he’d talked to Clark, but Perry avoided answering. I received the letter a few days afterwards, the day before the Planet reopened, and it felt as though my world had crashed down around me. The following morning I’d gone to work very early and had chosen a desk away from my old one, his old one. Leaving a note for Perry, I’d run off to chase a story.
Or run away from my memories.
Being back here in this time, seeing Clark more in the last few weeks than I had in the last twenty years, has been challenging. That first moment in the park, with Wells muttering beside me, I’d been so shocked to see Clark that sadness couldn’t get a foothold. It was the times I’d seen him after, when I’d been trying to follow him, those are the times that seeing him has distressed me. I’d kept redirecting my thoughts, trying to focus on what I was supposed to be here to do but today I hadn’t been able to do that.
Instead, I’d been lost, remembering vividly all the times he’d been right there with a comforting word or hug and knowing how much I’d missed in my life not having Clark there. I often told myself I’d never really fallen in love. It was a lie I’d clung to so I didn’t have to face the truth, but today at that crosswalk, it hit me full force.
Using that emotion as a catalyst, I get off the bed and walk to the sink. Splashing water on my face, I force myself to focus on something else because I’m done crying today. Trying to change my train of thought, I wonder how I can help Jack get out of Juvie. As I hear Superman fly by, I wonder if that’s an option. But no, Jack said he asked Clark and that had to be what he requested, for Clark to ask Superman to break him out. Either Clark had refused to ask, or Superman had said no. Though that doesn’t explain Jack’s strange comment about Clark being able to get him out anytime.
Glancing at the clock, I realize I’ve spent far too long wallowing and I need to move in order to get to work on time.
