All of these parts seem to be relatively short, don't they? But I'm breaking the story into logical sections. And I am still writing, but it's going slowly. The part I'm working on now seems to make its way to paper in fits and starts, but I'm finding that if I jot a bit here and there, leave it awhile and then go back to it, I'm having better luck getting it to flow smoothly.
From part 2:
Lois watched them go to their separate cars, and then went up to her room and closed the door. She had half an hour before she had to leave for school, and suddenly she wasn’t hungry.
She sat down on her bed, fighting tears.
No. She wasn’t going to cry.
She picked up Mama’s picture from the table beside her bed.
“Hi, Mama,” she whispered. “Look what I got. A ninety-eight percent. The highest score in the class. And I did it because of what you said, Mama. I decided I could do it, and I did, even with my fire-starting eyes.”
Despite her best efforts, a single tear tracked down her cheek.
-----
The Girl Next Door, part 3:
Having won the High School Journalist of the Year award two years running, Lois was awarded a two-week junior internship at the prestigious Daily Planet during the summer after her senior year.
The program was in partnership with the American Society of Newspaper Editors Foundation, and the internship was awarded to an outstanding high school senior who had participated in high school journalism for at least two years. ASNE funded several such programs in different regions of the country, awarding internships at the New York Times, the San Francisco Chronicle, and the Washington Post, as well as the Daily Planet and many others.
The too-brief internship reinforced to Lois that journalism was what she wanted. And not just any sort of journalism. She was going to be an investigative reporter for the Daily Planet, and she was going to be the best.
ASNE had also awarded her several grants and a partial scholarship to Metropolis University’s School of Journalism.
When Lois announced that she had won the scholarship to Met U and intended to earn a journalism degree, both of the Lanes were openly disappointed that she hadn’t chosen to become a doctor.
“A... reporter, Lois?” Ellen asked in dismay. “It’s so... menial. Grubbing around for stories, and ink all over the place...”
Ellen obviously had no idea what journalism was really like.
“And... Metropolis University? Really, my dear, a public school? What about Harvard? Princeton? Cornell or Yale?” Ellen asked her.
“Lois, you must discard this idea,” Sam added in his most pedantic voice. “You put a GPA such as yours to shame squandering it on this sort of thing. You may choose any of the Ivy League schools that you want, but I’m afraid I simply can’t support your decision to attend Metropolis University.”
“Sam, it’s what I want,” Lois told him. “I’ve wanted to be a newspaper reporter for almost as long as I can remember.”
“Then you’ll have to do it on your own, Lois,” he replied. He seemed to have no doubt that his ultimatum would change her mind.
< You need to remember... Remember that you can do whatever you decide you want to do... >
Mama’s words echoed in her mind. She straightened her spine, crossed her arms, and looked first Ellen and then Sam in the eye.
“Then I will do it on my own,” she stated clearly. “I will become a journalist and I will be the best investigative reporter the Daily Planet has ever had.”
-----
By the time she graduated from high school, Lois had discovered that she had an almost photographic memory. She’d also discovered that she seemed to have an aptitude for languages. She studied French in high school, but also picked up some Spanish, Chinese, and even Russian by listening to other students practicing their vocabularies during study hall.
She continued to live with Sam and Ellen Lane throughout most of her college years. Sam had come around enough to accept that he wasn’t going to be able to change her mind. He didn’t like it, but he had learned that Lois Lane at her most stubborn was utterly unbudgeable.
Ellen, understanding exactly how stubborn both of them could be, had recognized that Sam would not support Lois financially while she attended Metropolis University. She also knew that Lois would not ask him for help.
In a moment of relative peace in the household, she had convinced them both that Lois should live at home while attending college. She simply wore both of them down until they finally agreed with her, just to stop her talking. To her credit, she was helping Lois stretch the scholarship and grant money much further than if Lois had also had to pay rent.
During her second year of college, Lois did consider moving out. She would have had to find a roommate, but it would have brought a respite from the increasingly acrimonious battles between Sam and Ellen.
But that same year, she began to change again.
Gradually, over the end of her first year at Met U and through the summer following it, she had noticed that she seemed to be getting stronger. It was subtle at first. She never seemed to notice the weight of the books she needed to carry from class to class, although she heard her classmates complaining about it frequently.
She took several elective courses over the summer, one of which was a printing technology course. The students were taught how to operate, among other things, a linotype machine and an old manual printing press. Neither of the machines was difficult to use, but both were huge, old, iron antiques.
One day, the last to leave the printing lab, Lois stumbled as she rounded the printing press, putting out a hand to catch herself. She didn’t fall, but she pushed the machine, twice as tall as she was and weighing several tons, about a foot out of its usual resting place.
Flabbergasted, and terrified someone would enter the lab and see what had happened, she frantically pulled on the press with very little expectation that it would move, despite what had just happened. The machine moved easily back into place, and Lois shakily exited the lab.
“Are you all right, Ms. Lane?” her professor, who had just finished talking to one of her classmates, asked. “You look very pale; are you ill?”
Lois was trembling, and she had no doubt that she was, indeed, pale. It wasn’t every day that your average one-hundred-twenty-pound college student could physically move a two-ton printing press without any help.
“I’m okay, thanks,” she said quickly. “I... didn’t eat breakfast... I woke up late and... I just need to go get some lunch,” she improvised hurriedly.
The professor nodded, still looking concerned. “Well, okay, but take the time to eat a proper meal, Ms. Lane.”
“I will,” Lois said, already moving for the exit. She had to get out of there.
She headed for the park where she and Mama used to spend so many happy hours. It was still a source of comfort for her. Sitting on one of the benches near the lily pond, where Mama had found her all those years ago, and watching nature’s free show the way Mama had taught her to watch, calmed her considerably.
After she’d sat for a while, she took a deep breath and looked around. There was no one else in the immediate area. She used her special vision to look further; the closest people were several families and their children in the playground area a considerable distance away.
Looking around again, she noted the boulder near the far end of the pond. She stood and walked over to it. It was roughly half the size of a Volkswagen, which meant it had to weigh a considerable amount.
Scanning again with her special vision, she assured herself that she was still unobserved. Bending, she tucked one hand partly under a lower edge and lifted. The boulder came off the ground easily, and she was able to raise it above her head, still using only one hand, and steadying it with the other.
She set it down carefully and deliberately in the exact spot it had occupied, and then returned to the bench just as carefully and deliberately.
“Mama,” she whispered, “I really, really wish you were here. What do I do now?”
She remembered how Mama had helped her practice her special vision and those extra-noisy ears. Okay, so she would have to practice until she could control this new strength thingy.
She rose from the bench and headed for home. She’d have to find some place to practice this new ability. Maybe a gym? She’d have to be very careful to only practice her brand of weight lifting when she was alone, though.
“I remember the dragons, Mama,” she whispered softly. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”
---
When she told Sam and Ellen that she would like to join a gym, Ellen expressed concern about the idea.
“I just don’t like the idea of you going to a public gym, Lois,” she said. “They’re full of germs – I’m sure none of the equipment is cleaned adequately between uses – and you have no control over the membership. And you’d be going at night, wouldn’t you? Any… *criminal* could join. You aren’t a very large person - someone could overpower you so easily.”
Lois had been at somewhat of a loss as to how to answer that. She probably couldn’t be overpowered easily – possibly not at all – but she couldn’t very well tell Ellen or Sam that. She ended up simply repeating her desire to have a place where she could work out.
“You need to be safe at the same time, Lois,” Ellen insisted. “Sam, isn’t there any sort of private gym we can get her into?”
Sam stroked his chin in thought. “I consider this an excellent idea, Lois,” he began. “Every young person should choose ways to stay in shape while they are still young. It pays to start good health habits early.”
“Yes, yes, Sam,” Ellen said. “But look at her! She’s so small! She won’t be safe at some… unregulated public gym.”
Lois knew it was pointless to argue with Ellen about whether she could protect herself or not. It would be easier to use Sam as an ally in this particular battle.
“Yes, Sam,” she agreed, “I need to start exercising more. I really need somewhere to work out.”
“What about Mike?” Ellen asked suddenly. “Couldn’t he help us out? You used to go over there, remember, Sam?”
Sam was nodding approvingly even before she finished speaking. “I can ask him,” he said, reaching for the telephone.
Lois exhaled softly and felt the tense muscles across her shoulders loosen. It looked like maybe she was going to get her way.
Her Uncle Mike, Sam’s brother, was also a doctor. He was the director of a sports medicine facility associated with Metropolis University. The facility had a fully equipped gymnasium, including an olympic-size pool and an indoor running track.
Mike was quite happy to help out, although he cautioned Lois that she would have to use the facility outside of its normal operating hours. Lois agreed readily, since that was exactly what she wanted, anyway.
The possibility of observers had been one of the big drawbacks to her plan, but she hadn’t been able to think of any other viable way to practice controlling her strength. They lived in the middle of the city, and her only access to the outdoors was Centennial Park, which wasn’t very secluded at all.
And there were very few things at home large enough - or heavy enough - for her to practice on. Practice effectively, that was. She couldn’t bench press the grand piano - well, she probably could, but it was Ellen’s pride and joy. How would Lois explain it if she accidentally damaged it?
She’d started out lifting her bedroom furniture over her head, but quickly realized that if she was going to safely control every movement she made, she needed more diverse activities. She needed to focus on every muscle group, which meant physical activity such as weight lifting and running and swimming.
Mike arranged for the security staff to let her into the building in the evenings, and to escort her to the small car Sam and Ellen had given her as a high school graduation present, at the end of her workouts.
He also gave her keys to the large gym and the pool and locker room. And, expressing concern that she would have no spotter if she chose to weight-lift, he gave her a key to his athletic performance lab. It had a full range of weightlifting machines where she could safely work out without a spotter - and it had the added advantage that it was off-limits to anyone else except Uncle Mike.
For entirely different reasons, both Lois and Ellen were perfectly happy with these arrangements.
Mike stayed late on Lois’s first visit, to make sure she knew how to use the equipment safely. That was a nerve-racking experience for Lois. Uncle Mike showed her how to set weights he considered safe for her size and supposed strength, then had her try out the machines. Lois had to make it look like she found the weights heavy, while at the same time trying not to push or pull hard enough to damage anything.
He had also mentioned the lack of security cameras in any area of the building, other than in the front lobby where the business office was located. “Most of the athletes who use these facilities are recovering from injuries,” he’d told her, “and they value their privacy. So you don’t have to worry that someone is, say, ogling you while you swim, or anything like that.”
The possibility of cameras hadn’t even occurred to her. “Uncle Mike, you have no idea how reassuring it is to hear that,” she told him with utter sincerity.
Satisfied that she knew what she was doing, he’d reminded her that she could call on him if she needed any help with the machines, and then left her to her workout. Left alone, Lois had decided that a visit to the pool area – specifically, the hot tub - would be a good first step. She’d needed to sit quietly and let her adrenaline levels subside a little before she could begin an actual workout.
---
By the time the fall semester started, Lois had gained considerable control over her newfound strength.
There had been a few mishaps, of course, but fortunately, they were of a much less notable nature than the printing press incident.
Grabbing for a cup of coffee one morning, in a hurry to leave for school, she’d crushed the mug to fragments, spilling hot coffee all over her hand and the table. Luckily, neither Sam nor Ellen had been there.
Uninjured, she’d hurriedly cleaned up the mess.
She’d accidentally bent a couple of the iron bars at the gym and had had to bend them back into shape. She’d also inadvertently broken the lock on one of the locker room doors.
The door had locked automatically behind her, as always. She’d realized, just as she reached the main entrance, that she’d accidentally left her purse, keys and jacket in the locker room. In her hurry to get her things and get back to the security guard, who was waiting patiently, she’d twisted a little too hard on the door handle, and had heard a crunching noise as the lock gave way.
Chagrined, she had automatically glanced around; no one was in sight, of course. For probably the hundredth time, she’d thought how lucky she was that the place didn’t have security cameras. She had quickly grabbed her things and left, trying to look nonchalant as she joined the security guard at the front desk. He escorted her to her car exactly as usual, so it must have worked.
Sitting in her room one night after another workout, contemplating her current list of abilities, she’d realized that she was also increasingly impervious to temperature extremes.
Once she had tested the limits of her strength and endurance as well as she was able to with the equipment available at the gym, she spent much of her sessions trying to fine-tune her degree of control over those abilities. But she never broke a sweat, whether she was pushing the heaviest weights the gym offered, or running slow and steady endurance laps. And Ellen Lane had commented several times that she still had to remind Lois to take a jacket on cold days, exactly as she had when Lois was in grade school.
While Lois had originally started frequenting the gym in order to practice controlling her strength, she’d found that the regular exercise was almost therapeutic. She probably didn’t *need* to exercise; it followed, considering the temperature thing and her invulnerability, that she wouldn’t get fat or out of shape.
Sometimes she swam in the indoor pool or ran laps on the elevated track, and there, in those two activities, she had discovered two more new abilities.
Swimming laps, she had realized she could hold her breath for an inordinately long period of time. She’d timed herself by looking at the wall clock as she went under, then looking again when she had to come up for air.
Her longest time, so far, was twenty-one minutes.
Running laps, she had discovered her increased speed. Lost in thought one night, she’d increased her pace until she’d realized that the world around her was a blur. Slowing down, she’d noted that the impact-absorbing surface was... smoking. She’d hurriedly blown gently, cooling the track, and had resolved to return the following day with a stopwatch.
Her best time for one mile, so far, was barely measurable - mere tenths of a second.
Noting how her invulnerability extended from not getting sick or hurt, to not being affected by temperature extremes, to effortlessly staying in shape, she assumed that her speed might include more than just a track coach’s dream running time.
She experimented in her room - showering, writing, dressing. She could do all of those things in seconds, and sometimes in fractions of seconds.
At least learning to control the speed thingy was much easier than learning to control her enhanced strength had been.
---
Lois moved into her own apartment at the end of her third year at Met U. Officially, there were a number of reasons for the move.
The fights between Sam and Ellen had escalated. Sam was writing a book and was, from Ellen’s point of view, underfoot much more than he had been before he stopped seeing most of his patients. This led to more frequent clashes, and Lois found the constant tension difficult to cope with.
She had taken as many classes as she could during the summers after her first and second years, determined to earn her degree and get on with her plans as soon as possible. She managed to win the highly-coveted summer internship position at the Daily Planet her third year, and felt the whole experience would seem more like an actual job if she lived on her own.
And she was actually able to afford living on her own, despite Sam’s refusal to help.
Shortly after she turned twenty-one, she was contacted by the law firm who had handled her mother’s will and Lois’s formal adoption by the Lanes. When she called the office, she was told that there was some final business in regard to her mother’s estate, to be executed now that Lois was of legal age.
Sitting in the waiting area of the office, Lois tried hard to look composed. She resolutely kept her special hearing focused on the sounds immediately around her, terrified that she would overhear something devastating. Did they know about the spaceship? About how Mama had found her? Why, suddenly, after all these years was there still something to discuss?
“Miss Lane?” the receptionist interrupted her increasingly panicky thoughts. “Mr. Stone will see you now.”
Mr. Stone had been her mother’s lawyer. Lois remembered him, vaguely - a stiff and dark-suited presence in the family courtroom during her adoption proceeding. After a brief but friendly greeting, he asked her to take a seat.
“Miss Lane,” he began, “your mother was able to do something many people are not able to do. Because she knew she was dying, she was able to put into place several... safeguards for your future.”
Lois could feel her heart pounding, and strove to appear calm.
“Your mother set up your adoption by the Lanes,” Mr. Stone continued, “and left instructions with this firm as to her wishes in that regard. She also had, and I imagine this is something you did not know, a quite generous life insurance policy.”
At Lois’s start of surprise, he smiled slightly. “Yes, I thought that would be a surprise. She was, if you’ll pardon my saying this about a woman dying of leukemia, quite lucky. She applied for a life insurance policy shortly after you were born, I believe. This was before she became ill, so she was able to purchase a very good policy. She instructed this firm to invest the insurance pay-out and to hold it in trust for you until you turned twenty-one.”
Lois had not moved during this time, except to blink.
Mr. Stone continued, “The initial pay-out value was fifty thousand dollars. That sum has grown to approximately one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Your mother was a smart woman, Miss Lane, and I am honored to carry out her wishes.”
“Thank you,” Lois whispered.
Mama.
Mama had surrounded her with love all those precious days they’d had together, and here was a final gift from her.
Mr. Stone seemed to understand Lois’s inability to speak, and after a moment he continued, “Your mother also left instructions for the yearly rental of a safety deposit box, to be paid by the trust. I believe there were family heirlooms she wanted to ensure you would receive... The box is located at the downtown branch of the First Bank of Metropolis, and you merely need to present your driver’s license and another form of ID to gain access to the box.”
In a daze, Lois accepted the paperwork the lawyer had prepared for her, thanked him, and left the office. Almost of their own volition, her feet carried her to the park.
Sinking onto a bench near the lily pond, Lois let the quiet sounds of nature enfold her and tried to come to terms with Mr. Stone’s completely unexpected news.
Mama had worked hard, but they’d certainly never had extra money for anything. Yet somehow, she’d managed to pay the premiums on a life insurance policy. And Mr. Stone had said she’d left ‘family heirlooms’ in a safe deposit box... Mama had had no family. Maybe she’d saved something from the time she’d found Lois.
Feeling more composed, Lois rose from the bench and made her way to the downtown branch of the First Bank of Metropolis. It was about a half block from the park’s Michigan Street entrance.
Lois presented her Met U student ID card and driver’s license at the bank, and was directed to Mama’s safe deposit box. Taking a deep breath, she fitted the key into its place and opened the box.
---
To be continued
