Chapter Eleven
>>>Friday, just after noon
Lois stopped at the traffic light two blocks from Clark’s apartment building. “You sure you’re not hungry?”
“No. Thank you.”
“Okay.” She tapped her fingers on the wheel. “You sure you don’t need help with those boxes?”
He smiled slightly. “I think I can manage them. Thanks anyway.”
“Okay.” The light turned green and she drove on.
“Front of the building or in the parking garage?”
“Front is fine.”
“Okay.” She brought the Jeep to a smooth halt directly in front of the building’s main door and pressed the rear hatch release. “It’s open.”
Clark put his hand on her forearm. “Thanks for coming, Lois. I really appreciate your help.”
She smiled and blushed slightly. “You’re welcome. You sure you’re up to coming back after lunch?”
He nodded and slid out the door. “I’m sure. I’ll see you in an hour or so.”
“You want me to come back and get you?”
He chuckled. “No, Mother, I’ll take a cab.”
Her grip on the steering wheel tightened along with her voice. “Mother?”
“Sorry.” He lifted one hand to placate her. “Thank you for caring, Lois, but I’m fine. Really.”
“Okay, if you say so.” He shut the door and she glided away from the curb. He watched the Jeep until it turned a corner, then he walked up the steps into the foyer and rode the elevator up to his floor.
He put the boxes in the guest room closet along with the few that were still packed up. He sighed as he surveyed the scene. He didn’t like the stack of boxes sitting on the closet floor. They implied impermanence, a restlessness, a readiness to leave, and that was something he didn’t want. He wanted to stay here in Metropolis. He wanted to put down roots, to make a home for himself. Lana couldn’t be with him, but he was sure she wouldn’t have wanted him to wander aimlessly over the globe, drifting with the wind and the tide. She’d want him to make something of himself.
Well, then, he would. He’d fix himself a quick lunch, grab a cab back to the Planet, and attack whatever assignments Perry had for him. He and Paula had turned in the car chase story on Wednesday afternoon, after evening deadline but with all the research done. Paula had almost admitted to him that he’d been right, which was a huge step for her, and Perry had congratulated both of them on a job well done.
So his decks were cleared for action and he was ready for something else to sink his teeth into, something meaty and important. He finished his sandwich on that note, and as he wiped the table clean, he heard a burglar alarm.
No rest for Superman, he grinned to himself. He spun into the Suit and flashed out the window in pursuit of truth and justice.
*****
Perry motioned to Lois as she strode down the ramp to the newsroom. “What is it, Chief?”
“Where’s Clark?”
“I dropped him off at his apartment. He had that stuff to put away, then he said he’d get some lunch and grab a cab back to the office.”
Perry nodded. “Good. How’s he doing?”
She shrugged. “It was hard for him, but he’s coping.”
“Coping? Or just putting up a good front?”
She paused in momentary thought. “No, he’s coping.”
He frowned. “You guessin’ or you know it?”
“I know it.”
“Uh-huh. How?”
She opened her mouth to answer but nothing came out. Surprise crept across her features. She shook her head and said, “You know, I never thought about that until just now.”
“Now that’s a leading comment if I ever heard one.”
She grinned crookedly. “I guess it is. I can’t explain it, Perry. If I listen for it in my head, I just know how Clark feels. It’s – I don’t know how to describe it. I just sense it in my mind.”
Perry’s eyes widened. “You sense it?” She nodded. “Just how much do you sense?”
“Nothing really specific, just his general mood.” She suddenly looked surprised again. “Oops.”
“Oops? What oops?”
She smiled in wonderment. “I think he just went out on – “ she glanced around and lowered her voice “ – a Superman job.”
Perry nodded cautiously. “Okay. We’ll see what kind of article he brings back this afternoon. Speaking of this afternoon, you have anything pressing?”
“No. You have something for me?”
“Yes. I want to go over your interview plan for Lex Luthor with you. I may be able to give you some pointers.”
She frowned in thought for a moment, then nodded. “I guess so. I think it’s pretty complete already, though.”
“Of course you’d think it was complete. Now, if you have no other pressing business, I think we should get this out of the way so I can do some other editor-type stuff with my other reporters.”
>>>Friday, 4:56 PM
Lois lifted her purse out of her desk drawer and pushed her chair under her desk. Her hairdresser’s appointment was scheduled for six-thirty, so she planned to grab a quick snack at the deli before going home to pick up her dress. The White Orchid Ball was officially scheduled to begin at eight, but she wanted to get there early and watch people arrive. It was one way to pick up tidbits and insights, and maybe there was a story or two to be found there also.
She hoped Claude wouldn’t attend. He was still on suspension, but since this was a social event not sponsored by the paper, there was no way to keep him from going. She decided that, no matter what, Claude would not be a problem for her.
She also hoped Clark would be there. She smiled to herself, wondering how good he’d look in black. Pretty good, she mused.
She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that Cat sneaked up on her without intending to. “Woolgathering, Lois?”
Lois jumped. “Oh! Oh, yeah, I guess so. I was thinking about the ball tonight. Are you going?”
Cat smiled wide. “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss it for anything! Have you any idea what a gold mine events like this are for me? I’ll get at least three weeks of column ideas tonight without having to say a word!”
Lois grinned back. “I’ll look for you there. Right now, I have a hair appointment and a date with a deli salad.”
“What, you don’t like all that rich food?”
Lois gave Cat a once-over. “Girlfriend, on you it goes where you want it to go, but on me it goes where it absolutely shouldn’t. I can’t afford to eat like an after-dinner speaker. I’d get extremely heavy.”
Cat laughed. “Hey, I have to work out a lot to keep my figure. I can’t afford to gain weight in the wrong places either.”
“In that case, I’ll see you at the ginger ale bar tonight.”
“I’ll look for you through the forest of men surrounding me.”
Lois laughed with her. She didn’t see the strain in Cat’s eyes, or the loneliness of the burden no one knew she carried.
*****
Perry had thanked Clark for the Superman exclusive he’d written up after lunch, commenting loudly that he wished the rest of his staff showed as much initiative and instinct as Clark had.
Then he’d winked.
Perry had called to Jimmy to take Clark’s article downstairs and slide it into page two of the evening edition.
“Well, son, that was good work. What’s next on your agenda?”
“Oh, I thought I’d take it easy tonight, just watch a movie and rest up.”
“What? Have you forgotten about the White Orchid Ball tonight? Everybody who’s anybody is gonna be there!”
“I don’t know, Chief, I really – “
“Lois will be there. Course, now that you know that, you won’t go, will you?”
Clark had stopped talking with his mouth open. Perry had clapped him on the shoulder and said, “Aw, son, I’m just funnin’ with you. I think you should go, but it’s your decision. Whatever you decide is fine with me.”
“Thanks, Perry. I – I’ll think about it.”
“Good. Now get back to work!”
“Will do.”
Clark turned to his desk and resumed work on the articles Perry had assigned to him earlier in the week. He tried not to think about what Lois might wear to the ball, or how she might fix her hair, or if she was as good a dancer as she’d looked the other night when she –
He ordered himself to stop thinking like that. He tried to banish thoughts of Lois by picturing Lana standing next to him.
It didn’t quite work. In his mind, Lana was standing next to his desk, but instead of crossing her arms in disgust or frowning in anger or expressing disappointment, she was laughing at him.
****
Superman’s cape fluttered in the breeze as he settled down in the cornfield. The tops of the stalks were, in his father’s words, “as high as an elephant’s eye,” and were close to being ready for harvest. Carefully, so as to disturb the corn as little as possible, he changed into “civilian” clothes and stepped carefully to the edge of the field.
He glanced around and saw only Wayne Irig outside working, but Wayne was on the north side of his house and unable to see Clark at the edge of the Kent’s east field. Clark sniffed the wonderful aroma oozing out of his mother’s kitchen and smiled. It seemed that things were well between Mom and Dad once again.
He knocked on the kitchen door, using the “shave-and-a-haircut” rhythm he’d used when he was a boy to let his parents know he was coming in. He’d started doing that one day when he’d thrown open the kitchen door after coming home a little early from the third grade and finding his parents kissing enthusiastically in the kitchen.
He’d been startled by their behavior, and even more stunned when they’d jumped apart like they’d been bitten by ants. His mother had rubbed her face and tried to get her breathing under control, while his father had turned around and leaned forward with his hands against the counter.
“Son?” he’d finally ventured.
“Yes, Dad?”
“Will you do us a big favor?”
“Sure.”
“Will you knock when you come to the back door after school?”
He’d frowned. “Okay. Why?”
“In case – “ his father had seemed embarrassed, but Clark hadn’t understood why. “In case we’re talking about your birthday or about Christmas or something like that. You wouldn’t want to spoil any surprises we might have for you, would you?”
Still puzzled, Clark hadn’t had any reason to disagree. “No, I guess not.”
“Then you’ll knock before you barge in?”
“Okay, yeah, I’ll knock.”
“Thank you, son.”
He’d forgotten about the incident until one spring day, late in his junior year of high school, when Lana had been over for supper. His mother had walked in on a fairly intense kissing session in the kitchen, and both Clark and Lana had stood silently beside the refrigerator, seriously embarrassed, as Martha had opened the freezer to get some ice. Then, without speaking a word or looking at either of them, she’d tapped out the “shave-and-a-haircut” rhythm on the freezer door, filled her glass with water, and left the room.
The explanation had made Lana both terminally embarrassed and highly amused. The memory made Clark smile. It was a good way to remember some of the good times with her.
As he waited for someone to answer the door, he reflected that they’d had a whole lot of good times. Maybe holding onto those memories was more important than feeling sorry for himself on a daily basis.
His father finally opened the door and smiled. “Come on in, son. You’re just in time for dinner.”
Clark returned the smile. “Great! I love it when a plan comes together.”
****
“Want me to do the dishes, Mom?”
“Oh, Clark, honey, you don’t have to.”
“I know that. I’m still offering.”
Martha grinned at him. “Okay, if it’ll make you feel more at home.”
He stood and began gathering the used dishes. “I always feel at home here.”
Jonathan smiled. “I’m glad you feel that way, son, since it is your home. And you seem to have a hearty appetite tonight.”
Clark walked into the kitchen. “I’ve been invited to the White Orchid Ball in Metropolis. It’s the big social event of the season.”
Martha’s eyebrow went up. “Oh? Who invited you?”
“Nearly everybody at the Planet got tickets. It’s one of those things Lex Luthor is doing to promote his businesses and his charities. Most of us are going.”
Jonathan nodded. “So you aren’t spending the night here?”
“Nope. The event starts at eight and I still have to change clothes.”
“I see. You’d better hurry. You only have an hour.”
“I’ve got a little time to talk yet. I was going to walk from my apartment. It isn’t far, and all the dishes are clean.”
Martha smiled as he exited the kitchen. “You didn’t melt any of my good plates, did you?”
“No, Mom! I wish you’d get off that. I only melted a couple of things, years ago, back when I started getting really fast.”
She laughed. “Yes, but one of them was my favorite frying pan! You looked so sheepish when you showed it to me.”
“And I replaced it out of my own money.”
She patted him on the arm. “I remember that too, honey. Now, do you have a few minutes to talk with us?”
He crossed his arms in mock annoyance. “And what did you call what we were doing during dinner?”
She waved one hand at him. “Oh, that was just small talk. Come on in the living room and let’s have some real deep down, gut-level communication.”
Clark looked to his father for help, but Jonathan only shook his head and headed to the living room himself. Defeated for the moment, Clark let his mother guide him out of the kitchen.
“Can I get you some more tea, Jonathan?”
“No thanks, Martha, I’m good.”
“Clark?”
“I’ll take another glass, Mom.”
She refilled Clark’s glass and put the pitcher on the side table, then sat beside her son. “Now, Clark, tell us what’s going on in your life. I don’t get to talk to you as much as I’d like to.”
He leaned back on the sofa. “Okay.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I picked up Lana’s personal effects from the museum today.”
Jonathan and Martha both stopped. Jonathan finally mumbled, “I thought you already had all that – all her stuff.”
“No. The employee relations director boxed it up and kept it for me. There were two containers.”
Martha put her hand on his arm. “Oh, Clark, honey, that must have been difficult.”
Clark took a big sip of tea. “It was, in some ways, but it was good, too. She had that picture of us throwing the Frisbee in the front yard on her desk.” He smiled to himself. “That was a fun day. You took the picture, Dad, the day we were playing keepaway with Wayne Irig’s grandkids when they were here during spring break. I remember that one of the girls got mad at Lana for catching the Frisbee and putting her in the middle. The girl snuck up behind Lana and tried to pull her shorts down.” He laughed so hard he almost spilled his tea. “And Lana – Lana dropped to the ground so fast she got grass stains on her underwear!”
Martha joined him in laughter. Jonathan smiled widely. “You never told us that, Clark.”
“Lana wouldn’t let me, Dad! She was too embarrassed!” They all laughed together.
Then the tears sneaked in. Martha buried her hands in her face and her shoulders jerked. Clark put his arms around her and held her close as she sobbed. Jonathan moved from his favorite chair to sit beside his wife on the sofa, and he put his big arms around the rest of his family as they all missed Lana together.
When Martha slowed down and tried to sit up, Clark released her. “Mom, we need to remember things like that. Lana would want us to think about her when we were all having fun or when she was happy or when she and I were making up after a fight. She wouldn’t want her memory to be something that burdened us. She’d want us to remember her but go on with our lives.”
Jonathan nodded slowly. “You’re right, Clark.” He sniffed once. “It’s hard, though. Lana was so full of life, so determined to be a success. She was such a wonderful girl.”
“Yes, Dad, she was. But she wasn’t perfect.”
Martha looked up at him. “What? You mean your wonderful and beautiful bride had faults, foibles and failings?” She lifted her hands and spoke to the ceiling. “What’s the world coming to?”
Father and son shared a laugh. “Oh, Mom, there are several things that happened between us that I haven’t told you two.” He gave his father a tilted glare. “And I may never share them with you.”
“Too personal, son?”
“Like you and Mom the night I told Lana about my powers.”
Jonathan looked puzzled for a moment, then he and Martha remembered at the same time than Lana had almost walked in on a very intimate moment between them. And then Lana had worked very hard not to let Clark know what she’d nearly done. It was obvious that all of them remembered that night.
Clark grinned at his parents’ blushing faces. “Gotcha!”
They all laughed again. Clark stood, still smiling. “I hate to have to leave just now, but if I don’t go Perry will want to know what in the Sam Hill I thought I was doing, being late to the most important social event in Metropolis this fall.”
His parents stood also. Martha hugged him. “Take care, Clark. And come back when you can.”
He kissed his mother’s cheek. “Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad.”
Jonathan pulled his son’s handshake into a manly embrace. “Be safe, son. And guard your heart.”
Clark looked deep into his father’s eyes. “Always, Dad. Always.”
>>>Friday, 7:19 P.M.
The entrance to the building was standing room only, and the ball wasn’t scheduled to start for another forty minutes. Lois could only imagine what it looked like inside, with all those people in formal evening dress crowding against each other, trying to maintain their good will and aplomb.
Cat had walked past her a few minutes before, her attention captured by the story the chief of police was relating to her. Whatever it was, it must have been fascinating, mused Lois, and she asked herself how much she’d bet that everyone read about it before Monday.
Everyone around her was having a good time and the party hadn’t even started yet. They were laughing with friends, smiling at wives and husbands and significant others, touching each other gently and lovingly, all appearing so innocent and safe.
Lois felt out of place. She wasn’t good enough to mix with these people. If they knew who she really was, if they only knew all that she had done, if they knew that she was a killer –
She shook her head. She hadn’t set out to take those men’s lives on the ship. She hadn’t intended to mow them down with that machine gun.
But she had. And now she felt different, out of phase with other people. She knew better than most just how fragile the human body was. She knew first-hand how easy it was to end a life, and how much terror death really held for someone in mortal danger. The feeling wasn’t constantly in the forefront of her mind, but it never left her.
She shook herself, trying to snap out of her funk, and watched the people stream past her; tall people, short people, skinny people, fat people, a few with good builds, several who bounced athletically, like the beautiful little redhead moving straight at her –
“Lois!”
The vivacious voice sliced through her musings. “Rebecca? Wow! Girl, you look good enough to find a husband!”
Rebecca’s musical laugh rose above the clamor. “Oh, no, I’m not hunting for a permanent guy yet! Of course, if the right one comes along, then – “
“Then you’ll be ready to rope him in!”
“Like a champion rodeo star!” Rebecca laughed again. “You coming in yet?”
“No, I’m having too much fun watching everybody.”
“Okay! I’ll see you later! Morgana’s playing viola with the string group and I want to talk to her before they start.”
And she skipped away like a sparrow chasing a bug. Lois watched her disappear into the crowd. Even as short as Rebecca was, she took up a lot of space with her personality. The red hair and the athlete’s body didn’t hurt, either, and she knew how to show herself off in the best way without looking cheap or easy. She was one of the sexiest women Lois had seen that night, and the effect was enhanced because she truly didn’t understand what she did to men when she focused her intensity on them.
Lois sighed, wishing she could be a redhead for a few days, just to see if it was worth all the hoopla. Her short, dark hair was skillfully arranged to encircle her face, and her ankle-length gown exposed her right shoulder, as if she’d need that arm free to draw a bow. She turned back to the flow of humanity and was startled to find a familiar face smiling at her.
“Oh! Clark, don’t sneak up on me like that!”
“Sorry, Lois, I didn’t mean to sneak. I’m not late, am I?”
“No. In fact, you’re early, believe it or not.”
He took a half-step back and made a show of checking out her dress. “Wow, Lois, you look great.”
He stepped close again and waited, apparently expecting some response from her. After a long moment, she frowned slightly. “That’s it? ‘Wow?’ No slight dig, no cutting qualification, no sarcastic comparisons?”
The grin on his face faded. “No, Lois, none of that. Why would you expect that from me?”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Clark. I don’t expect it, not from you. I just – I’m feeling a little off tonight.”
His expression shifted to one of concern. “Are you sick? Do you feel like you’re coming down with something?”
She waved her hands in front of her. “No, no, it’s – oh, it’s just me being moody.”
His smile came sneaking back. “Well, it hasn’t affected your appearance. No kidding, Lois, you look wonderful.”
Sincerity from his gaze bathed her face and she smiled. “Thank you, Clark. That’s very nice of you.”
He offered his arm to her. “It’s only the truth.”
She almost told him she wasn’t ready to go in yet, but something in her heart changed her mind. She slipped her hand under his elbow and moved closer. “Well, the truth is that you look pretty fine, too, Mr. Kent.”
He inclined his head. “Thank you, Ms. Lane. Shall we enter?”
Something in his smile almost forced her to return it. “We shall, Mr. Kent.”
As they meandered through the doorway and showed their invitations to the unfailingly polite but steel-hard security officer, Clark pointed across the room the bandstand. “Hey, look, it’s Yo-Yo Ma!”
“Where?”
“Over there, in the middle, pointing to the cello. I didn’t know he was going to be here.”
Lois squinted across the cavernous room. “I see two guys with a cello, but I can’t see their features from here. You sure it’s Yo-Yo Ma?”
Clark gestured at the traveling announcement board to the right of the bandstand. “Yo-Yo Ma, by special invitation,” Lois read aloud, “accompanied by the Metropolitan String Quintet.”
He smiled. “Well, I think we’ll have some excellent music tonight.”
Lois poked his bicep. “This is sort of a working social event, remember? So don’t get too caught up in the ambience.”
They turned around to look as someone whacked a snare drum at the other end of the room. Lois’s jaw dropped for a moment, then she recovered. “Clark! Do you know who that is?”
“The banner over that bandstand says it’s Glen Miller Jr. and his orchestra.”
“Yes! His father was one of the most famous members of President Truman’s cabinet. He started out as a trombone player, then led his own band, went to Europe with the USO to entertain the troops, stayed in the Army and got promoted to brigadier general, became Secretary of Defense during the Korean war, and ended up as Secretary General of the United Nations! And he kept making great music until he retired a few years ago!”
Clark grinned at her enthusiasm. “I take it you really ‘dig’ their sound.”
“Oh, yes! It’s a cross between Big Band and Elvis, with some extra stuff thrown in for good measure.” Her eyes lit up. “Wouldn’t it be great if Yo-Yo Ma could sit in with them? I bet that would expand his listener base.”
He stopped and wrinkled his eyebrows. “I don’t think that’s likely to happen, Lois. Their musical genres are just too different.”
She stopped and pulled him around to face her. “Oh, so you’re a music expert now? How many instruments to you play, farm boy?”
“Whoa! I never said it couldn’t happen, or that I was a musician.”
“But you’re willing to make judgments like that without any credentials to back them up! You don’t – “
“Lois, they play different stuff! Yo-Yo Ma is a classical musician and – “
“The Miller band’s stuff is classic!”
“I know, but – “
“He has some of the best players in the world up there with him! They can play with anybody!”
“I never said they couldn’t – “
“And you think they couldn’t keep up with a cello player? What kind of nitwit do you – “
He flung his hands up. “I surrender! I give! Uncle!”
She glared at him for a moment, then relaxed into a grin. “Okay, okay, I’m done.”
“Good.” He made a show of taking a deep breath. “I thought I was a goner for a second.”
She poked him in the chest. “So don’t contradict me in the future, okay?”
“Not without lots and lots of notarized documentation.” He dropped his hands and smiled wide. “Well, that was refreshing.”
“What? Refreshing?”
“Sure. I was beginning to think the Mad Dog was gone forever.”
“Mad – “ She froze in place and stared.
He’d actually called her ‘Mad Dog.’
To her face.
Was he crazy? Did he want her to rip his head from his shoulders? Did he have a secret death wish?
No. Somehow, through the strange link they shared, she sensed what he was saying. She’d been hiding behind her fear, her anger, and hadn’t let herself loose for weeks. Tonight, in that tiny little argument with Clark, she’d forgotten for a moment that she was supposed to be in total control of herself at all times, that she was afraid of being herself. She’d forgotten that she was different. She’d forgotten that people were supposed to fear her on some subconscious level. She’d simply engaged another person in open conversation and held nothing back.
It had felt good.
She thawed and smiled back at him. “The Mad Dog is locked up in the kennel for the moment, Kent, but watch your step or you’ll be in the doghouse too.”
“Promise.” He held out his hand. “Friends again?”
She took his hand and held it tenderly. “Forever and always.”
Just then the string quintet began fine-tuning their instruments. As people turned to face them, they finished their last-minute touchups, and the violinist on the far left counted down with his bow. They slid gently into a gentle classical piece as people returned to their socializing.
Lois smiled. “That’s pretty. Brandenburg, isn’t it?”
He looked impressed. “Yes, it is. His second string concerto in E major is a nice tune to waltz to, if you’re of a mind to do so.”
Her smile bathed him in its radiance. “Are you asking me to dance with you, Mr. Kent?”
He reflected her brightness in his own smile. “Only if you’re of a mind to do so, Ms. Lane.”
She lifted her hands. He gently pulled her into position, leaving an easy few inches between them. Lois concentrated on her steps as they glided through the crowd. After a few moments of safety in Clark’s arms, she glanced around and saw several other couples joining them.
He looked around also, then smiled down at her. “Looks like we’ve started something here.”
She grinned back but didn’t respond. She looked up at him again and thought to herself just what it was that they might have started between them.
