Ahhh! Gaaah! Grrr! Poodles and pitchforks and ponytails! Who would ever have thought that flying could be this difficult?
There shouldn’t be that much to flying, right? I mean, my Mom took a picture of my Dad when he was flying around being Santa. You can see in that picture how easy flying was for him. He was just sort of lying down in the air, kind of the way you’re lying down in the water when you’re swimming, except Dad wasn’t making any big or clumsy strokes. He was just – floating, you know? But he was moving forward, too. He held one arm outstretched, and one knee slightly bent, and he looked as cool as anything, and then he just – flew. Like a bird, or a plane. I looked at that picture Mom had taken of him, and it looked just like wow.
So, well, I’m Santa’s daughter, and if he could fly, I can fly. Or you’d think I’d be able to. Well, guess what, I have no idea how to do it! I can’t even do the floating bit, you know? Oh, I can jump all right. When I tried to practise flying, I kept jumping higher and higher, and if one of those downtown skyscrapers of Metropolis had been nearby, I bet I could have jumped clear over it. Like, well, like I could leap a tall building in a single bound. Except what goes up must come down, you know? Because the higher I jump, the harder I come down, I swear. I haven’t hurt myself so far, so that’s all right, but I’ve made all these craters in the ground around me. I have just no idea how to stay up in the air. I’ve tried ”swimming”, because Dad’s flying looked just a little bit like swimming, but no matter what I’ve tried – the breaststroke, the backstroke, the butterfly, crawl – I come crashing down just the same. I probably just look that much sillier when I fall to the ground doing the breaststroke. Maybe I should try diving, doing some somersaulting and twisting. At least that way it’s going to look natural that I’m plunging straight to the ground.
So okay, I guess I just can’t fly to Smallville. Well, big deal, I’m going to get there anyway, because I just got to see my grandparents, Jonathan and Martha Kent. Dad’s parents. Or, well, his adoptive parents, I guess, because my Dad is really from another planet. At least that’s what he told my Mom. And I guess he told her the truth, too, because I don’t see how he could fly if he wasn’t from another world. And anyway, he’s gone back there now. To his home planet. To Krypton.
And that’s why I just have to see my grandparents, Jonathan and Martha. So I can ask them about myself. How do I know if I’m normal anyway? What’s normal for me? Is it normal that I can’t fly? It would be cool if there were others I could ask about myself, people like me. I mean, if Dad had other kids here on Earth, then I could ask them. Would they be like me? Would they know how to fly? Would they be able to talk to their Moms about Dad? What would they think about – well, everything? But, you know, I don’t think there are any others here. Maybe Dad has more kids now, on Krypton, because he told Mom that he was going to Krypton so that he could have kids there. But I don’t think he has any other kids here on Earth. Dad said to Mom that she had been his first – the first he did this baby-making stuff with, not that he thought he and Mom would get any babies out of it – and I don’t think my Dad would be lying. And he left the Earth, you know, right after he’d done what he did with Mom. I’m sorry that there aren’t any others like me, but I’m glad that Dad only did it with Mom.
But anyway, I’ve just got to go to Smallville. And now that I can’t fly there, I really think that perhaps I should try running there. When I tried to fly, I thought it might help if I made a running start. Well, the running didn’t do my flying any good, but I found out that I could sure run fast. I didn’t seem to get tired when I was running, either.
So, okay! Running it is. You know, I… I’m feeling a bit nervous about it. After all, I’m going to cross half the American continent on my own. Got to remember – I have to stay in the shadows, out of sight from the roads, but near the roads anyway, so I don’t get lost. Better start slow, so I can find my rhythm. Guess it’s a good thing it’s December, so the nights are long and dark, because I don’t think I dare to run in the daytime. Okay! Bye bye, Metropolis. All right, yes, I’ve left Metropolis already, because I’d never have dared practised flying like this if I’d still been in the Big Apricot. So I’m out of Metropolis, but I’m still on the east coast, but not for very much longer…. Kansas, here I come!
**************
Ooohhhh! Whew! Phew! Oh, God… I’m so tired… I’ve been running for, let’s see, about six hours. Guess it’s a good thing I remembered to put on my watch this morning….That feels like a lifetime ago. This morning, I mean. Can you imagine what an innocent little girl I was back then? This morning?
And jeepers peepers, I didn’t know all this running would take so much out of me! But honestly I have to concentrate so hard all the time when I’m running. I’m scared that someone will spot me, and then I’m afraid of getting lost. And I’ve accidentally felled two trees already, because you can’t believe how hard it is to avoid all the obstacles that are suddenly in your face when you run so fast away from the road.
It’s midnight. December the 26th. It’s no longer my birthday. Hmmm, I’m getting all grown up and mature, aren’t I? I’ve been twelve years old for a whole day now, and I can take care of myself, can’t I? Well, I’m downright proud of myself that I found this road I can follow, Interstate 70. I was sort of zig-zagging about for about an hour, kind of feeling lost and scared. But then there it was, Interstate 70, and if I just stay out of sight of the cars I think I can follow it all the way to Kansas. Follow the yellow brick road…. Toto, I think we’ll be in Kansas in a jiffy.
Or maybe not in a jiffy. I’ve made good time, considering. I’m out of Pennsylvania and I’ve made it all across Ohio, too, and now I’m in Indiana. Guess it would be a good idea to keep running because it’s dark, but honestly… I’m really tired, I need to rest. Well, Mom hardly ever lets me stay up this late! So I need to find a place to sleep, but it’s useless to try to find a motel, of course – like they ever would rent a room to a twelve-year-old kid with $27.50 in her pocket! But a little while ago I passed what looked like an abandoned car. I suppose I could go back there and rest. Yeah, great idea – I can just barely keep my eyes open.
*************
Oh, um…. uggh, my bed’s… ’s terrible…. Mom, you’ve got to buy me a new one…
Hmmmm….
Mom?
Wh…? What? Where am I?
This… This is a car, for God’s sake! I’m in a car! An unbelievable old rustbucket! And why don’t I recognize the landscape outside?
Where am I? What’s happened to me?
Oh!!! I remember. Oh, God… Mom… her diary… Dad… on Krypton… and I’m on my way to Smallville. To see Jonathan and Martha, my grandparents. Dad’s parents.
Oh… Oh, God… I’m far away from home, aren’t I? I’m in the middle of nowhere, right? I’m smack dab between where I used to be, Metropolis, and where I want to go, Kansas.
Smallville. Smallville’s where I want to go.
I should… I should get started again. I should start running again.
I don’t know. I’m stiff all over. And tired. Can’t remember the last time I was this tired.
I don’t want to start running now. It’s light outside. Anyone could see me. Couldn’t I… couldn’t I just wait here until it gets dark again?
Yeah. That’s a good idea. I could stay here and read. I could read Mom’s diary. There is so much about her that I don’t know. It’s probably good to be prepared, to read as much as I can, so I know what to tell the Kents when they start asking questions. I still have her diary, don’t I? Don’t I? Oh, God, no, it can’t be lost… oh, thank God, here it is, in my pocket…. So where in her diary was I? Oh, yes. The last thing I read was how Mom took that fertility-enhancing drug, because she wanted to become pregnant. She wanted to have me.
**********
I’ve done what I can to have Clark’s child. Please, God, let me become pregnant.
Janury 12: I had my period today. Damn.
January 23: I dreamt about Clark all night. I could feel him holding me. He told me that he loved me, and I could feel him all over me, and around me, and inside me.…When I woke up he was gone, and my pillow was wet from my tears.
Oh, Clark. Why did you have to leave me? Why?
February 9: I had my period today.
February 18: I’ve been dreaming about Clark every night since he left. I don’t sleep well. If I could only talk to someone about him.
March 5: I’ve been thinking about contacting Jonathan and Martha Kent. If anyone can tell me about Clark it’s them. But what would I tell them? ”Hi, Mr Kent, Mrs Kent, I’m sure you haven’t heard of me, but I’m the one who seduced the pants off your son on the day that he left for Krypton….” Naaaah. I can’t do it.
March 8: I had my period today. Why do I bother writing it down? As if I’m surprised by it?
April 4: I didn’t have my period today.
April 5: I didn’t have my period today.
April 6: I didn’t have my period today.
April 7: It’s funny, I didn’t have my period today, either. Normally I’m as regular as clockwork.
April 8: I didn’t have my period today.
April 9: I didn’t have my period today.
April 10: I’m a week late. Why am I late? Can’t remember when that happened last.
April 11: Last night I dreamt I was pregnant. But… no. No, that isn’t possible. Clark and I made love on Christmas day… would I have become pregnant in March? That’s impossible.
April 12: I dreamt I was pregnant again. I was hugely pregnant, like a barrel. A very pregnant barrel.
April 13: Could I actually be pregnant? For real? Could I really?
April 14: I have to get myself a home pregnancy kit today. Okay, I know I’m not pregnant, but I have to prove it to myself.
April 14, a few hours later: I’m going to do the test now. God… I’m shivering. What if I’m pregnant? What if I’m not?
Okay, I’m looking now, and…. Oh, God. God. It’s… it’s blue!!! I AM pregnant! I AM!!!!!
April 15: I haven’t slept all night. Am I carrying Clark’s child? Did I get pregnant three months after I made love with him? That isn’t possible, is it?
But if this isn’t Clark’s child, then whose child could it be?
It IS Clark’s child. That’s the only possibility. My God, I haven’t slept with anyone else for… well, for more than a year. And I took that fertility drug after sleeping with Clark. That doctor who blushed like beetroot told me that the drug bolstered the vitality of the sperm. The little wigglies could live inside the woman’s body during more than one menstrual cycle and impregnate a suitable egg a long time after intercourse. Is that what happened to me? Yes, I guess it must be.
God. I’m going to have Clark’s child. But Clark isn’t here. Is he ever going to know? How can I tell him?
The globe! That Kryptonian thingie! That globe delivered messages to Clark from Krypton. That’s why he left the Earth in the first place. But he gave the globe to me before he left. So maybe I can finally put this contraption to good use and contact Clark with it! If I can tell him that I’m pregnant with his baby, surely he’ll come back to me?
April 15, a few hours later: I can’t!!!! I can’t contact Clark! I’ve been trying and trying to make that globe react to me and start sending messages, but absolutely nothing happens. Nada. Zilch. I’ve held that globe in my hands, I’ve held it up to the heavens like a pagan priestess, I’ve pressed it to my forehead, I’ve undressed and held it between my breasts and flush against my belly, I’ve applied a Vulcan mindmeld to it – I even looked up some age-old Star Trek tapes featuring Spock to see how you do that thing – and I’ve climbed up to the roof of this building bringing Clark’s star chart along so I could locate Krypton, and then I held the globe out in that direction. I’ve chanted to the darn globe, I’ve sung to it, said prayers to it, even tried some ventriloquism on it – but nothing. It won’t talk to me, that’s all there is to it, and it won’t let me talk to Clark.
I should contact Clark’s parents, shouldn’t I? They deserve to know, don’t they?
But what do I tell them? It’s not as if I know them, is it? I can imagine our conversation. Me: Hi, I’m Lois Lane. Martha Kent: Do I know you? Me: No, but you should – I’m pregnant with your son’s baby. Martha Kent: Really? Clark never mentioned you. Me: That’s because I jumped his bones a few hours before he left the Earth for Krypton.
No. I can’t tell them that. I can’t deal with them right now. I’ll contact them later. I think.
April 16: How do I tell everyone else? The ones who are going to see that I’m pregnant sooner or later whether I tell them or not?
April 17: I called Mom today. I said, ”Mom, I’m pregnant.” She made a sort of wailing sound and hung up.
I decided I would call Dad right away. Not that I think that he and Mom would normally talk to one another, but you never know. So I called him and said, ”Dad, I’m pregnant.” There was what seemed like five minutes of icy silence on the the other end of the line, and then he said, ”Really, my dear? I can direct you to a good abortion clinic.”
Lucy called. She giggled and sounded a bit drunk. She told me she’d always known that I would turn out to be the black sheep of the family.
April 18: I talked to Perry today. I could have waited, of course, but I don’t know – I’m on an adrenaline high somehow. I just want to talk about it. Perry sighed and told me he hoped I would be able to keep working for as long as possible.
April 25: Yeeech!!! Today I had my first bout of morning sickness! It was pretty bad, I spent about an hour in the bathroom throwing up. I was late for work and I was sort of wobbly and shivering all day. I couldn’t eat anything for lunch, and I had to run to the ladies’ room in the afternoon.
April 26: I decided I might as well tell everybody at work, because they must have figured it out yesterday anyway. So I just asked for everybody’s attention and told them. Cat smiled like a viper and congratulated me on my choice of a beau – clearly the guy was virile, even if he had nothing else to recommend him. Jimmy came up to me and asked about the father of my child, and I smiled sweetly at him and told him that that wasn’t part of the announcement. ”You mean you aren’t telling?” he asked, astonished. ”Uh-huh,” I confirmed, smiling sweetly. ”Don’t you have work to do, Jimmy?” ”Eh, sure,” he said and turned to leave. He turned back again right away. ”Hey, Lois, you sure it isn’t Clark?”
How could Jimmy figure out it was Clark? Me and Mr. Smallville hardly spent any time at all together in the newsroom. Boy, when I tell the others that my baby is Clark’s, nobody is going to believe me. Anyway, Clark has been missing for four months, and I’m just one month pregnant. No, I’ll stick to my resolution not to tell them about my baby’s paternity at all.
May 3: Well, it’s been a week, and things are pretty much back to normal at work. Cat is smiling snidely at me, and Ralph is dropping obscene comments all over the newsroom, just barely loud enough for me to hear. But Jimmy is as sweet as ever, and Perry is nice, though he seems troubled.
June 15: Today I had lunch with Mom in a little obscure diner. She was afraid that her elegant friends might see us if we went somewhere more obvious.
”You expect me to look after the baby when you’re out chasing stories during all kinds of ungodly hours?”
”Eh, yes, Mom. I mean, no. I don’t want you to take care of my baby if you feel bad about it, but I’d sure appreciate it if you would.”
She snorted. I paid for her quiche and caffe latte.
July 7: I met Lucy today.
”Hey, sis, you okay? Those sunglasses are nice and all, but it’s really cloudy today.”
She just muttered something.
”Everything okay with you and Mike?”
”Whaddaya pestering me for? I walked into a door, okay? At least Mike never knocked me up and dumped me.”
July 25: Jimmy was staring at me today.
”Hey, Jim, whas-a-matter?”
He turned bright red, then he stuttered, ”You, eh, you’re beginning to show a little. It looks, eh, really nice on you.”
I could fell myself blushing. Then I just got up from my chair and went up to him and gave him a hug.”Thanks, Jim,” I whispered. ”I guess you’re the first one who’s complimented me on this pregnancy so far.”
August 18: Two days ago was the anniversary of Elvis’s death, wasn’t it?Well, it could have been the death of me, too – and it could still become the death of my baby.
I felt really dizzy in the morning, as if I had morning sickness again. Only this felt even worse than morning sickness. I was dizzy, so I had to sit down, and it just occurred to me that I hadn’t had any sort of checkup at all during my pregnancy so far. Was everything really all right with my baby?
And then there was like an enormous wave of red pain that just seemed to hit me. Well, I was seated next to the phone, so I grabbed the receiver and managed to dial the number to Star Labs. The man who answered the phone was Doctor Kingley, the man I stole the fertility drug from, would you believe me.
”Help me… my baby’s dying…” I whispered.
I thought Doctor Kingley was a geek. But he managed to wheedle all kinds of succinct and pertinent information out of me, and while I was slowly slipping into unconsciousness, he and Doctor Klein ran a downtown obstacle course through heavy Metropolis traffic to get to my apartment, break down the door and get me onto all sorts of life support while they prepared to take me to Star Labs.
I was bleeding heavily, and it looked as if I was having a miscarriage for sure. But Doctor Kingley and Doctor Klein managed to stop the bleeding and stabilize me, and amazingly, my baby seemed to hang on.
I had to lie flat on my back for the rest of that day, and I slept most of the time. The next day Doctor Klein explained to me that I might have to spend the rest of my pregnancy in bed.
August 19: So here’s the long and short of it. Dr Klein tells me I can’t work. I had to call Perry and tell him. And he informed me, regretfully, that if I couldn’t work, then he would have to let me go and hire another reporter who could do the work in my place. What could I tell him? You can’t fire me, Perry? But he could, and he had to.
September 20: I’ve been lying flat on my back for a month now. The baby is doing all right, but Dr Klein tells me that the situation is precarious, nonetheless.
The problem is that the baby is half-human, half-Kryptonian. I’ve told Dr. Klein about the baby’s heritage, and he knows that Clark is from another planet, because he was one of the scientists who helped build Clark’s spaceship. Anyway, my body has decided that Clark’s baby is rather too alien for me, and it’s been trying to reject the baby. Can you imagine – my body wants me to have a miscarriage! Dr. Klein has been feeding me various drugs that will suppress my immune system and make me accept the baby more easily, but now I’m susceptible to all kinds of infections, so I have to stay in a clean, sterile room and have as few visitors as possible. And I have to stay in bed, because if I’m up and about, that increases the risk of a miscarriage.
October 18: I’m running out of money, as I can’t work. For now, I’m staying here at Star Labs, in the good care of Dr Klein and Dr Kingley. But I don’t have a job, and I fear I’m about to lose my apartment as well.
November 26: I got an eviction note today.
My baby is doing fine. I feel enormously pregnant. It’s not very comfortable to be so huge, but it’s wonderful, all the same. It feels like a miracle, seeing my incredible belly, knowing that Clark’s baby is living and growing inside me. A new person, a totally unique little person, is making itself ready for the outside world. This little baby is coming to me, so that I will get to share my life with this little person. How lucky can I get? How is such a miracle even possible?
December 20: My body is so humungous, it feels like bursting. It can’t be long now until I have the baby. It mustn’t be long now.
December 23: I’m having contractions, but Dr Klein tells me they are not the real thing.
December 24: The contractions have started…like waves of incredible pain wracking me. Then they let up for a bit and I can breathe. Oh, God, how long will this last?
I’m lost; I have no control. I’m tossed by the waves of a horrible sea. I’m stretched and torn and scrambled by the tremors of an earthquake whose epicentre is in smack dab in my middle. I’m tossed, torn, twisted, turned inside out and pried open, and the forces converging on me just won’t let up. I can only scream as another wave of red hot pain is rolling over me, and then another one, and another.
The hours go by, and my pain ebbs and flows.
And then, as if from a thousand miles away, I can hear a voice echoing:
”I can see her head!”
Her? Who?
A kind hand takes mine, and an encouraging voice exhorts me:
”Push!”
And I push, and I push, and something large just slides out of me, and I can see, dimly, smiling faces all around me. And gentle hands are lifting an impossibly small body, the tiniest little baby, and places it on my chest, on my heart. And I cry, and I look into the baby’s face, and into its eyes, and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that this must be the most beautiful sight that anyone has seen since the dawn of time.
And I hear soft and happy voices in the background.
”Congratulations! It’s a little girl.”
”The time is seven minutes past midnight. Seven a.m. It’s Christmas Day, December the 25th. You’ve had a little Christmas girl.”
And somewhere in the background someone is softly singing a Christmas carol. And I’m thinking to myself that my baby is no Jesus, and certainly no Christ, and I’m definitely no Virgin Mary. But like Mary, I’m a homeless woman, or pretty much so, and I’m an unmarried woman who has given birth to her miracle child on Christmas Day. And the baby’s father is no Holy Ghost, but he is a miracle anyway. And I know you can see his star in the sky.
And I close my eyes and thank the Gods and the forces of the universe, and my wonderful Clark whom I knew so briefly, for my miracle baby on Christmas.
**********************
Oh, Mom…. Oh, my Mom. I didn’t know what it meant to you to be pregnant with me. I didn’t know what you had to do to bring me into the world. Oh, Mom, I love you. And look here, now I’ve messed up again, because I’ve left tear stains all over this page of your diary.
And then suddenly there is a hand on my shoulder, and I yell and fly up so hard that I break clear through the ceiling of the car.
tbc...
