This is a counter-piece to my short vignette “Monday.” Thanks to the requests of the gentle readers, this story is Lois’ story, and told from her point-of-view. It isn’t important that you read “Monday” first, although doing so will give you just a little more back story as to what is going on here. The story deals with the Alt-Clark and Alt-Lois introduced in the series. Please keep in mind that this is an Alt-World where Charlton Heston and Elvis Presley were presidents, so I’ve taken some liberties to make a few other things different as well.

I don’t have a BR, so all errors are mine. Any and all feedback is welcome. (And if anyone wants to volunteer their BR services, that’s welcome too).

Disclaimer: Most of these characters aren’t mine. I’m not writing this story for profit, but rather because I have an unhealthy obsession that needs to be sated.

Part 1

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I used to think my life couldn’t possibly get any weirder.

I was wrong.

Friday, Jenna came home with the news that Wayne Irig had passed away. I’ve only met Mr. Irig on a couple of occasions and therefore didn’t know him very well, but he seemed like a nice man, so I’m appropriately sad that he has passed on. However, Jenna’s news has more profound implications, which I realize instantly—this estate was being leased from Mr. Irig. If he had passed on, it meant management of the property was going to be passed on as well.

Jenna’s standing in the kitchen calmly unloading cartons of food from Maisie’s Diner as she fills me in on the news. The potato salad in her left hand looks so good that I’m salivating, but I ignore my pressing hunger as panic sets in. “God, Jenna, what am I going to do? What if we have to move? What if they find me?” I wail as I snatch a bag of fried chicken away from her. She turns her innocent blue eyes on me, remaining irritatingly stoic as she reclaims the chicken and pushes me into a chair at the table.

I hit the chair with a thunk and gape like a fish out of water as Jenna turns to grab a couple of plates out of the cabinet, her blonde ponytail swishing behind her. “Look, Lois. I know you’re worried, but...”

“Worried!?” I leap from the chair. She thinks I’m worried? I can show her worried. “Jenna, this isn’t even close to worried. I am way beyond worried. That—” I point at the front door, “—is worried.” I sweep my arm across in front of me, gesturing at the back door on the other side of the house. “And that is the whole range of emotions between worried and where I am now. I am the back door Jenna. I’m so beyond worried, that it’s clear across the house.”

Jenna furrows her eyebrows a little at me and shakes her head. “You’re weird, Lois. I mean I’ve always known that, but that has to be the weirdest analogy I have ever heard. Here.” She hands me a plate she has dished up while I’ve been ranting and raving. “Eat. Let’s talk.”

I sigh and slump back down into my chair. “I knew this was all too good to be true,” I mutter as I fork an innocent lump of potato. It crumbles under the pressure, and I can’t help but relate a little to the potato, as I think about what is going to happen to me if I have to move away from my little safe haven in Kansas.

Jenna ignores my grousing and plows on. “Okay, here’s what we know. Wayne was leasing this farm to me. He is now deceased, which means the management of the farm is going to have to fall to someone else. I talked to Rachel Harris today, and she mentioned that she managed to get in touch with the farm’s owner. He’s planning on attending Wayne’s funeral on Monday. Rachel said she wouldn’t be surprised if he comes by here on Monday and tries to sell the place to us. She said this farm has bad memories for him, and he’d probably rather give rid of it outright than try to continue managing it.”

“But, we can’t buy this place! It’s acres upon acres of land, and we don’t have that kind of money!” I’m starting to feel a little more desperate. I stab at another potato and it obligingly crumbles. It’s a little like therapy, destroying these helpless little starches. That was my dream, I think as I watch one potato crumble under my fork. I smash another potato. That was another dream.

“We may be able to afford it. We don’t know what kind of offer Mr. Kent will make. Maybe he’ll be so desperate to get rid of the farm that he’ll practically give it to us. Or maybe he’ll change his mind and let us keep leasing it out. It’s not like there’s a long line of people waiting to get their hands on this barren land. There is no point in worrying right now about something we can’t control. And you know that if we have to move, Daniel will find another place for us somewhere else.”

I sigh, and let all of the nervous energy seep out of me. She’s right. There’s no point in dwelling on what hasn’t come to pass yet. “Okay, fine. We’ll see what Mr. Kent has to say when he’s here on…” Suddenly, Jenna’s words catch up with me. I feel the gears in my mind grinding slowly against each other as they try to process the information.

There’s no way. It can’t be. It’s just not possible. I’ve never had a single ounce of good luck in my entire thirty-seven years. “Mister…K—Ke—Kent?” The name stumbles over my lips and I’m sure at the moment I must look a little a deer in the headlights.

Suddenly Jenna’s eyes are shining and I can tell she’s biting back a grin.

“As in…Clark Kent? As in…Superman?” I know I have to be right, but I can’t stop myself from asking.

Jenna nods once, firmly.

“Oh!” I leap out of the chair and throw my arms around her. I’m hugging her and then I’m swatting her away playfully and nudging her shoulder with my fist. “I can’t believe you kept this from me all this time! You just sat there and let me freak out. You fink!”

I can feel my laughter bubbling up out of me, unable to be contained any longer. I’m laughing and smiling, and suddenly I feel as though a weight has been lifted off of my chest. Jenna’s grinning from ear to ear as well. She was enjoying torturing me, but I know she’s enjoying seeing this more.

Jenna’s been protecting me for the last eleven years. Even though this is her job, what she gets paid for, I know she has practically sacrificed her life for me. Over the years we’ve become as close as two sisters could be. She might not biologically be my sister, but she’s been all I’ve had for eleven years. We’re close, and I can’t help but think about how much I’m going to miss her if this all works out.

She must be reading my mind, because she tightens her hug briefly before stepping back to wipe a stray tear from her eye. “This is your chance, Lois. If there’s anybody in this world who can solve this case and let you get back to your life, it’s going to be Superman.”

She’s right, of course. I’ve been wanting to track down the big blue boy scout since he appeared on the scene eight years ago. As soon as I saw him on the television, I knew he was the answer to my prayers. I’ve just been unable to do anything to get in touch with him or attract him here. I have been too afraid any maneuver on my part might reveal my location to those whom I’ve been hiding from.

And then fate just delivers him into my hands.

Jenna visibly gathers herself together. She swipes one last time at her face, and then straightens her back. Her tears are gone, and her trademark toothy grin is back. “Well, if he’s going to be here on Monday we better get this place straightened up. Need to make a good first impression, you know.” She begins to collect the plates as my potato salad is now long forgotten.

My life just keeps getting weirder and weirder.

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TBC