It's been two long years since this was started. It was incredibly fun to write, but when the delegation shifted the project stalled. It will probably never be finished unless I have some motivation to finish it, like the public humiliation of knowing only half of the story is out there. Seriously, feedback would be appreciated to know if it's worth my time.
This is an adaptation of It’s a Small World After All and a response to
The Great Grandmother of All Scavenger Hunt Challenge If you notice long sections that have nothing to do with either the IaSWAA or the Great Grandmother Challenge, then you’ll fully appreciate the writing talent of our two oldest children, who were six and four at the time.
Family Project By Mr-D8a, Elisabeth, RoseMary and Trinity
It started with a tingle and worked its way into a full itch. Lois glanced at the bottle of shampoo and frowned. She had never had an allergic reaction before, but this definitely felt like something odd was happening now. Whatever shampoo Clark used, she would have to buy him something new once they were married. The itch intensified, followed by a strange, overwhelming urge to go to sleep.
Lois rinsed as well as she could, and then turned off the water. She reached for a towel, but barely bothered to dry off before wandering out of the bathroom and into Clark’s bedroom. Clark wouldn’t mind if she laid down for a little na-a-a-ap…
A gurgling sound filled the air, but in her sleep she didn’t even hear it.
~*~
“Lois? Lois?” After more than forty-five minutes, Clark was beginning to wonder if Lois would ever come out.
Their day was certainly not going as planned. Lois had stopped by to give him a ride, but they were interrupted by a volcanic eruption near Greece. The rescue hadn’t taken long (he had simply diverted the lava flow away from the closest town and into the ocean) but when he arrived back he had given her a hug and, in the process, managed to get soot and other volcanic waste products all over her hair. She had only gone in for a quick shower to clean up. Surely it wasn’t so bad that she couldn’t come out.
He finally pushed the bedroom door open and peered inside. “Lois?”
Clark’s jaw dropped as he found not Lois inside his bedroom, but a small, naked girl sleeping in his bed.
“Oops!” a heavily accented voice cried out from over Clark’s shoulder. Clark spun around to find a strange man in a uniform, carrying a cloth butterfly net, backing out of his bedroom.
“I must have the wrong apartment. Let me just check my work order. The super called to say there was a large rat problem, but I don’t see any rats.”
The man spun on his heel and ran from the apartment. Clark peered over his glasses to see the strange man jump into a small pick-up truck with Snoil Exterminators emblazoned across the side and quickly drive away.
“Daddy?” a little girl’s voice called. “Oh, you’re not my daddy.”
She hopped down from the bed, leaving a wet towel on the floor. She looked down at her unclothed body, and shrugged.
“Oops, no panties.”
She draped the towel across her shoulders, covering much of her thin frame.
“Hi, I’m Loith. Who are you?”
~*~
Annette was insane—no doubt about it. She had never gotten over the heartache of being rejected by her former high school classmates. And now that she was the successful head of a large, internationally-known cosmetics firm, she intended to make each of them pay dearly for all of her pain.
She had been taunting it over Debby and Les for the many weeks that she had held them captive in a cage cobbled together from building blocks, rubber bands and pencils. She had wooed them with a free sample of shampoo “for the one in love.” But the shampoo had not brought love; it had shrunk their cells down until they were the size of a Smurf.
And now, she had two more to gloat over. She grabbed the net from her assistant.
“Julie will be so heartbroken at your absence, Dick. But don’t worry, I’ll comfort her. Just like I’ve comforted your Joe, Debbie. And, of course, your Peggy has shed quite a few tears on my shoulder, Les. None of you had time for me before, but now I’m all that you have left.”
With no further ado, she tossed her shrunken classmate into the cell. He cried out, but could do little to brace himself from the fall.
“Go into that closet back there and put on something humiliating. A dress would suit you well, since you don’t appear to be much of a man anymore.”
“And now, Mr. Kent, it’s your turn.”
Annette grabbed the next net, but it was empty.
“The shampoo did not work,” her assistant explained. He flinched, knowing that no explanation would save him from the punishment that was to come.
~*~
“Lois? Is that you?” Clark wondered. He looked deeply into her eyes. She looked similar to his Lois. But, of course, she was just a child. It wasn’t possible.
“Yup. It’th me. Who’re you?”
“I’m Clark, your fiancé.”
She wriggled her nose. “What’s a financee?”
“It’s someone you get married to. Never mind. You don’t remember me?” Clark’s heart fell. She had just had her memory returned, and now it had left again with her adult body. He only hoped that the amnesia was temporary, this time. And most of all, he hoped that his Lois would be returned to him, as well.
“Are you a printhe? I plan on marrying only a printhe—or maybe a farmer. I want to raise lots of cats.”
“A cat farmer. Swell.”
“But I can’t marry you. I’m juth a little kid.”
“Just think of me as a man from your future, huh?”
She nodded her agreement.
“As long as you like cats.”
His mind raced. There had to be some kind of reasonable explanation for this that would demand a reasonable course of action. For now, he couldn’t think of a thing.
Oh, goodness! He just realized that he would have to take care of her. He had no idea how to take care of a small child. He needed help. He wasn’t going to be able to get any help with a little girl underfoot.
“Would you like a cookie? How about we watch some TV?”
A few minutes later, he had Lois dressed in one of his t-shirts, perched in front of the TV with a plate of cookies and a glass of milk.
“Thethe cookieth taste bad,” she complained.
“But you liked them when you made them,” Clark tried to mollify her.
“I don’t remember making these,” she pointed out. “And thith milk ith thour, too.”
“Why don’t we watch some TV,” he suggested. He flipped through the channels until he found some kind of a children’s program, and then slipped off to make a phone call.
“Dad? I need you and Mom. Don’t ask why—it’ll be easier to show you. Oh, but I can’t come get you. You’ll have to take a plane. I can’t leave her alone. I’d hate to have to explain that one to social services. Well, maybe if I’m fast it’ll be okay.”
“Clark, what are you talking about?”
“Never mind. Just pack up all of the kids’ stuff that you still have. I’m going to pick up Mom. Then, I’ll come get you in an hour. But you’ve got to be ready. I don’t have time to dilly-dally. I’ve got to go, Dad.”
Clark waited long enough for Dad to talk to Mom, and then waited a few minutes longer in case his mother had any questions. He kept his eye on Lois from his vantage point in the kitchen, but he was careful not to venture too close to her—he didn’t want to break the trance too soon.
It was a relief when he finally had his mother in his home. She was not just another adult, she was great with kids and Lois trusted her. Besides, if he couldn’t have his partner there to brainstorm their way through it, his mom was the next best choice.
He set his mother down in his bedroom where young Lois wouldn’t see them. He led her quietly into the living room.
“Who’s this, Clark?” his mother wondered.
“Hi, I’m Loith,” she cheerfully greeted them. “You mithed the good parths. There’s this cat and thith mouthe. I like cats. They were playing in a band. And the cat wath the band leader, and the mouthe wanted to be the band leader. And they were fighting, and the band was dropping through the floor. And the cat put was trying to hit the mouthe, but the mouthe held up a trombone and the cat punched himself right in the face. It wath tho funny. Look! In thith one, the cat hit the mouthe with a shovel!”
“What are you watching? This isn’t a cartoon! This is a bunch of random acts of violence! Turn that off!”
“Oh, Clark, don’t overreact. You watched these all the time when you were a kid. And you turned out just fine,” Martha reminded him.
“Oh, and your friend ith here. He knocked on the door, tho I let him in. He’th going potty.”
Martha cast a worried glance at Clark.
“Oh sweetie, it’s not a good idea to let just anybody in. Bad guys look just the same as good guys. So you better leave the front door duty to the adults, okay?”
A moment later Jimmy wandered into the room.
“Hey, CK. Hey, Mrs. Kent. I was wondering where everybody was. And who is this delightful little lady?” He bent down into Lois’ young face and tickled her under the chin. “Koochy koochy coo.” He blew his cheeks out into his silliest face and blew the raspberries at the little girl. “Koochy koochy…”
Lois’ face hardened. With every ounce she could muster, she socked him a good one across the jaw.
“You didn’t tell me you were a bad guy!” she accused him. “I wouldn’t have let you in if I had known.” She threw in a final kick for good measure. “Now, get out!”
“Oh, honey, that’s not what I meant,” Martha rushed to Lois’ side, rubbing her back to settle her down. “Jimmy’s not a bad guy; he’s our friend. But he
could have been a bad guy; that’s what I was trying to say.”
She held her arms out, and Lois obligingly stepped into a hug. Martha stood up and scooped the little tyke onto her hip.
Martha introduced them, “Lois, this is Jimmy. Jimmy this is Lois.”
“I’ve never met another Lois, especially not one this young. That’s cute.” Jimmy smiled, rubbing his jaw. “Hiya, Lois. It’s nice to meet you.” He turned to Clark and wondered, “Is she your niece?”
“He’th my financee,” Lois informed him. “We’re going to get married in the future when I’m all growned up, and then we’ll farm thome cats.”
“Lois Lane?” Jimmy’s eyes grew wide. He began to thoughtlessly pace the room. “Oh, man! Ohmanohmanohman! What is it with you two? How did this happen? Is it the
same Lois, or is this some sort of robot-cyborg-clone thing? I think she just hit me with her bionic arm; she packed quite the punch for a little one. How are you going to get your Lois back?” Finally, he sunk into a chair.
“I don’t know, Jimmy. I believe it’s the same Lois, but I have no idea what happened. I left my Lois and then she went into the bathroom forever and finally I found this little Lois sleeping.”
Lois frowned. “What do you mean ‘your Loith’? Who am I—chopped liver?”
“The adults need to talk for a few minutes, Lois. Would you like to watch some TV with me while they get some business done? We’ll turn on PBS so Clark doesn’t get so upset. Okay?” Martha led Lois by the hand across the room. She settled the young girl on her lap and located the appropriate channel.
“So why do you think she’s your Lois? Couldn’t she just be some other Lois who happened to wander into your bathroom?”
Clark cocked an eyebrow, but then shrugged it off. His explanation, while convoluted, was no less insane than any other explanation.
“Look at her teeth,” Clark advised. “Whatever happened to the rest of her body didn’t change her bone structure. Her hips are still a bit wider than the average child’s, and she has a full mouthful of adult teeth. I can’t explain it, but that’s my Lois in there.”
“So where do we go next? Should we call Perry?”
“I’ve been thinking about it. The first thing I did was get some babysitters here—that’s why my parents flew in on such short notice. I think the next step is to take her to a doctor.”
“A pediatrician?”
“No, I think this is a case for Star Labs. Let’s call Dr. Klein and warn him.”
They made a rather terse phone call to Dr. Klein—although it was no more normal than Clark’s call to his parents—and set off to prepare the young child for her doctor’s visit. Clark made a quick trip to his ‘bedroom’ to call his father away ‘from going through the boxes he and Martha had brought back from Kansas’.
Although they managed to find a few sets of clothes that were only a few sizes too large that for some inexplicable reason his parents still had, they had a rather difficult time getting young Lois to wear them.
“I only wear dretheth,” she informed them matter-of-factly. “No panth.”
“But sweetheart,” Martha enlightened her, “we only have pants for you today. If you wear pants just this one time, I promise I will buy you some dresses to wear for the next time we go out. How does that sound?”
“I only wear dretheth,” she repeated.
“Why don’t you just try on the pants to see if they fit,” Jonathon suggested. “That way we’ll know what size of dress to buy you.”
Lois looked at him dubiously.
Martha slipped the pants over Lois’ hips and waist, buttoning and zipping them up. When Martha let go, the pants immediately slid from Lois’ waist right down to the floor.
“I should have known the pants would end up there,” Jonathon muttered under his breath.
“That’s alright, dear. We’ll try it again with a belt,” Martha soothed.
“No panth,” Lois reminded her, getting more perturbed by the minute.
“But honey, you can’t go out of the house naked. You have no underclothes and no dresses. Now you have to wear something. So you need to wear the pants just long enough to go buy a dress. So look, we’ll put the pants back on and use this fancy tie as a belt. See? Isn’t that pretty?”
“NO PANTH!” Lois grabbed Clark’s t-shirt off of the bedroom floor and shimmied into it. She took the tie and wrapped it around her neck and headed toward the door. “DRETHETH are PRETTIER!”
Martha finally obliged, tying Clark’s tie around Lois’ waist in the most attractive bow she could manage.
“At least she’s decent,” Jonathon decided. “Let’s go.”
“No, I want to finith watching the TV. They were thinging and danthing and going, ‘O-o-o-o-oh-klahometown where the wind comth whoopin on the plain.’ I want to thtay and watch the whoopin’ and all the thingin’ on the thtage. Pleathe. Pleathe.”
“No, no, it’s time to go. Come on.”
“I thaid pleathe,” Lois insisted, stomping from the room and planting herself squarely in front of the television. Clark picked her up, tucked her under his arm and headed for her car. She kicked and screamed the whole way.
~*~
Dr. Bernard Klein was captivated by a project as they walked into his lab. If he heard their approach, he gave no indication. Instead, he sorted through the sundry metal parts that cluttered his lab area, making notes on his chart.
Clark cleared his throat to get the scientist’s attention.
“Hi, Clark. It’s good to see you. What’s this? A family reunion? Did you bring your niece to the big city to go trick-or-treating with you tomorrow night?”
“As I said on the phone, there’s a serious problem with Lois. My parents flew in to help.” Clark looked around the disorderly workspace. “Are we interrupting something?”
“No, no,” Bernie reassured them. “I’m just reworking the engine on my father’s riding lawnmower. It’s off-season, and the engines are surprisingly similar to my motorcycle’s. So what’s the problem with Lois?”
Clark pushed the small child to the front. “This is Lois.”
“Hiya,” she greeted him with a charming wave.
“This is your Lois?” Bernie clarified.
“Yup,” Jimmy affirmed.
“Why do these things only happen to the two of you?” Bernie muttered under his breath, before addressing the young beauty. “So how old are you, sugar? Three?”
“Two?” Jimmy guessed.
“Two-and-a-half,” Clark conjectured.
“Four,” Lois sounded rather perturbed as she corrected them. “Four is my
favorite number. I’m very lucky to be four-and-a-half years old. Is it Halloween today? I’m a good trick-or-treater.”
“Yes, yes, Halloween is tomorrow. I’m Dr. Bernie, and I’m going to give you a doctor’s exam. When it’s all done, if you’re really good, I’ll give you a lollipop. Wait, no. All I have is a breath mint. Will that do?”
He took Lois over to the area where he normally examined Superman. After weighing and measuring her, he attempted to take her blood pressure, but found the adult cuff was way too large for her.
In the meanwhile, Jimmy headed to the local CostMart to buy some dresses and other things for Lois, while Clark and Jonathon headed to the trunk of Lois’ car to grab a box of toys for Lois to play with.
“Just before you came, I discovered that Martha had tossed that little flimsy diaper thing from Krypton in on top of the other kid’s stuff. I was bringing it up to the attic when you came to get me.”
“Lois is going to love these toys, Dad. Thanks for bringing them.”
Lois was waiting impatiently as they returned to the office, while Dr. Klein called around to his colleagues looking for a child-sized needle to take some blood samples with. He finally scored when he called Dr. Wilson, who did many more animal studies than Klein himself did.
“What’th that?” Lois wondered as she pointed to a cage toward the back of the room.
“Oh, that? That’s Labby, my lab rat. She’s the smartest rat you’ll ever meet. She likes little kids. Would you like to meet her?”
Lois wrinkled her nose. “I prefer fish.” She watched for awhile, fascinated. “What’th she doing?” she whispered.
“Writing fanfic,” Klein whispered back. “She’s a pretty good writer. Although, the last one wasn’t all that good. She did a crack-pairing between The Brown Hornet from Fat Albert and Alton Brown from Good Eats. Not my favorite story."
“I need to check your blood. We’ll be looking for anything that might make a grown woman into a four-year old. I’m also going to be doing an allergy test on you. You have a strange rash on the inside of your elbows that looks a lot like an allergic reaction. This might hurt a little bit. Do you want Clark to hold your hand?”
“I’m tough. I can take it, Doc,” she assured him. But when the needle actually started going into her arm, she changed her mind. “That hurts! That’s not nithe, at all! I want more than a breath mint. I want ithe cream. Rocky road with chocolate on the cone! Ow ow ow!”
Clark held her hand and spoke soothingly to her, but Dr. Klein needed to fill three vials and the tiny equipment he was using seemed to make it last forever. Martha rubbed her back until the worst was over.
When all was said and done, they let Lois play in the back of the room while Klein wandered around seeing to details. Lois dumped all of the farm toys onto the floor and arranged them into a parade.
“You’re going to be the first baby,” she said as she arranged a barrel of monkeys onto three wagons.
“And you’re going to be Trulabelle,” she told the goat. “We’re changing the name.” She arranged each of the horses in a row. “And you’re going to be here, and you’re going to be in the middle. (You’ll share a little tiny brush and crown. So don’t fight.) You’re going to be the first. The leader is going to be Tinkerbelle, because she knows how to take care of babies.”
Apparently the dogs on the back of the firetruck had started to argue, because Tinkerbelle came back to break it up, “Guys, stop it. Who’s going to get the comb first?” A cute little puppy jumped up and down.
Clark found it mesmerizing to watch how she came up with a different voice for every animal in the line. Trulabelle spoke in a deep drawl that wasn’t unlike Perry’s when he had a cough. “Everyone. They’re going to share it. You’re going to have to have the comb in your hair, Tinkerbelle.”
Tinkerbelle, in her high, breathy voice, continued her assignments. “Tara, you’re going to lead the other horses in the back.”
“Woo hoo!” they shrieked, jumping up and down for joy. “I can be right here. And I get to be right here. And I get to be right here. And I get to be right here.”
They let Lois continue to play as they gathered around Klein’s desk for the preliminary results.
“It’s going to be awhile before we get the results back from the lab. But I have to tell you, it’s like looking for a needle in a haystack.”
“Now, the servant has to be tied up to her leader. That’s how you’re going to be the whole time,” Lois continued in the background.
“Clark, tell me again what happened. Try to remember anything unusual that might have occurred,” Dr. Klein directed.
“There really was nothing out of the ordinary,” Clark declared, but he told his story anyway.
“So, she just shrunk in the wash?” Klein queried. “That doesn’t make any sense. And there was nothing unusual going on. Was she investigating anything out of the ordinary?”
“Only some missing persons’ cases, but I can’t see how that’s related.”
“Hmmm,” Klein drifted off into quiet thoughtfulness.
“Now let’s move out,” Lois announced from her place on the floor. “Drag the servant, my kid. The queen has to have her servant with her, so the servant doesn’t have to be tied up. Move slowly. When the ones in back move, that’s when you move.”
“I have to tell you some concerns I have for her general health. While I measured her at 42 inches, which is right around the 50 percentile for a four-and-a-half year old child, she weighs in at only 29 pounds. That’s much too small for a child her age. I mean, her purported age, not for a twenty-something year old. That’s
way out of line for an adult woman.”
The queen horse bumped into Jonathon’s boot. Lois tilted the horse up to get a better look at him, “Giant!” she screamed. “Turn around. Mom, go in the back. When I move, back up.”
“Why don’t you move over here where you’ll have more room,” Martha suggested.
But Lois found it hard to move the monkeys’ wagon over the thick cables attached to Dr. Klein’s lab equipment, so the toys started to cry. “Wah wah! We can’t move.”
Lois brought some of the older toys over to help. “Mom, one of the babies fell.”
“Wah wah!” the baby toy whined.
Klein continued with his assessment, “Mentally, she has lost all of her memories of being an adult. I can’t tell if that’s a reaction to whatever process she’s been through, or if it’s a chemical reversion in her brain. If it’s chemical, it doesn’t give us as much hope for reversal. Still, I’m quite pleased with where she’s at. Even at four-and-a-half, she’s showing all of the signs of kindergarten readiness. She knows all of her letters and numbers, and her motor skills are quite advanced.
“Now, I’m going to prescribe a lotion for the rash. Give her lots of water, and make sure she gets enough sleep. Also, it wouldn’t hurt for her to put on a few pounds…”
Lois’ voice overrode his as another crisis came over the toys. “Tara, one of the babies fell out and is bleeding.”
“I know. We need a band-aid,” the one who appeared to be Tara answered.
“Mom, the servant has lots of band-aids,” Lois played.
Clark was struggling to concentrate on the scientist cum physician’s directions with all the distractions.
“Oh hoh, put a band-aid on.”
“…Although fruits and vegetables are important, too. And I think a balanced multivitamin is a good idea for her, as well. With her weight, her immune system can’t be working at its full capacity. But, why don’t you wait on that until we get better numbers on her iron levels.”
“Move it, Mom,” a horse instructed. “No, stop! The servant has mud on her feet. I’m glad since we’re supposed to be treating her badly. Ah hah hah hah!”
Jimmy arrived, looking rather flustered, and carrying a small dress.
“I’ll do my best to try to figure this out,” Klein promised.
“Do or do not,” Jimmy solemnly instructed him. “There is no try.”
“I’ll remember that,” Klein assured him.
Dr. Klein stood up and shook Clark’s hand. The reporter shook his head, hoping he remembered everything important. He and Jimmy cleaned up toys while Martha helped Lois to change into her pretty new dress, and then the five of them headed back to Lois’ Jeep.
“Sorry, it took so long,” Jimmy apologized. “I’m not good at little girl stuff, and I’m not sure I installed this car seat correctly.”
~*~
Jimmy headed back to work while Clark, with young Lois in tow, headed back to his home for lunch. Martha and Jonathon pointed out that this was the perfect opportunity for them to pack for the long haul. They also had a few phone calls to make to clear out their schedule for the next few days. Once again, Clark felt awkward at leaving Lois alone in the house for the few minutes that the trip would make, but there wasn’t much that he could about it.
He decided that macaroni and cheese would be a nice kid-friendly food for lunch. He set a pot of water boiling on the stove. Although he didn’t have any macaroni noodles, he figured pasta was pasta, so he substituted gemelli. He mixed some powdered milk in with the real milk to add a few extra calories and a little bit more calcium that Lois’ diminutive body truly needed. He cut up some tomatoes to add the fruit Dr. Klein said she needed. He had frozen broccoli and fresh asparagus and avocado, but somehow he doubted the young tornado would like any of the above. He glanced through the pantry door and found a lonely can of peas to complete his meal.
As he sat down at the table to work, Lois came in to do a show for him. She had found an umbrella and a bowler hat (Was it possible that Herb had left that there?) in the back of his closet, and began doing circles around him as he poured the peas in a small saucepan.
“I was skipping along,” she sang to him, but then stopped and seriously explained the rules to him, “(It has to have running, skipping, walking, or walking fast.)” She continued her song, “I was skipping along inside the house. Mmm mmm. Hmm mmm mmm. Mmm mmm. Hmm mmm mmm. Yeah! And then my parents said, here’s a piece of candy since it’s Halloween. So I put on my ballerina costume and did a show.”
She interrupted her song, to explain some more to him, “Now here’s the kicking part. Kick with me, Clark.”
“I really am not as good as you are at kicking,” Clark told her as he sat down to cut up tomatoes.
“No, you can do it. Watch,” she chopped him in the knee and he reflexively kicked. “Dr. Bernie showed me that today,” she told him proudly. “Kick with me, Clark.” She hit him again and then added her own high kick and a twirl, watching her dress balloon out as she spun.
“Stop that,” he scolded. “I’m only a few minutes away from having lunch ready.”
He sent her into the bathroom to wash her hands, and then used his super speed to drain the pasta and mix in the milk, powdered milk, butter and cheese.
He glanced through the walls to see Lois playing around with his mirror and comb. She had left the water running to simulate the illusion of washing her hands.
A blast of heat vision melted the cheese. He dished up the macaroni, adding some tomatoes atop for an edible garnish and arranged the peas in a small heap on the side.
“Lois,” he called. “Lunch is ready.”
He saw her shut off the water, struggle a little with the doorknob and hurry into the kitchen.
He sat down to eat his lunch, but intentionally neglected to give her any food.
“Where’th mine?” Lois wondered.
“You don’t get any,” he casually told her, “because you didn’t wash your hands.”
“But I did…” she protested.
He silently pointed to the sink. She pulled a chair over and washed her hands properly this time.
While he knew she was hungry, rather than eating she looked disappointedly at her plate.
“I thought you thaid we were eating macaroni and cheethe. This ithn’t macaroni. It’th shaped all wrong.”
“If you eat it with your eyes closed, you’ll find out that it tastes the same.”
“But I don’t like the dark,” Lois pointed out. “And if I clothe my eyeth, then I might eat one of the red thingth.”
“Tomatoes,” Clark informed her. “You’ll like tomatoes. They taste like ketchup.”
He watched her stir her plate, surreptitiously hiding peas underneath her mound of macaroni. It was distressing to see an underweight girl not eating, but there wasn’t much he could do to force her to eat. After ten minutes or so, he saw her take a tentative bite of macaroni. Twenty minutes later the plate was empty. ‘Score one for Team Kent,’ he thought to himself.
“Where are we going next?” Lois wondered.
It was a fair question. Clark hadn’t thought through a schedule, but instead had been taking one moment at a time. He supposed that if Jimmy had discovered the truth about Lois, by now the entire newsroom had heard a few bits and pieces of the truth.
Lois chattered all the way down the steps and into the car. The chattering continued as he wrestled with buckling her myriad of seat belts. She hadn’t found a point to her story, but continued to talk as he drove down the road.
“Tho what does a reporter do all day? My daddy geth reporth thometimes from hith stockbrokerth. Do reporterth sell stocks? I thaw a picture of stocks one time when they were telling uth about the Mayflower and the Pilgrimth and the Puritanth and the Indianth. My daddy likes the Indianth. He thayth they’re going to go all the way thith year. I’m four years old. That meanth I have had four birthdayth. I had a pony on my birthday cake last time. I like ponies, but I really wanted a cat on my cake. Justin has a cat. I like Justin. He’s going to be a ninja thomeday. I’m going to be a ninja, too. Have you theen me kick? Hey, I thee a McDonald’s. Can we go to McDonald’s today?”
The sudden silence made Clark blink. He hadn’t actually been listening to all of her prattle, so was unsure how to answer whatever question she had asked him. He must have paused too long, because she picked up wherever she had left off. He promised himself he would do a better job of listening.
“We went to a picnic in the park a hundred yearth ago, and my friendth had a great big orange cooler filled with orange drink with the McDonald’s picture on it. I like McDonald’s, but I didn’t get any of the orange drink because the bees wouldn’t share with me. I’m good at sharing. Mommy thayth when the baby ith born, I’ll have to share everything, but I told her that my tea thet was all mine. I have twelve china cupth and saucerth and twelve little thpoonth, but I only have eleven little forkth because the garbage dithpother ate my lath fork and Mommy wouldn’t let me put my hand in to get it. But that’th okay, because my twelfth doll, Mrs. Penelope Breadandbutter, is Chinese and she uses chop stickth. I know about chop stickth, because I went to the Chinese rethaurant and practiced.”
“Mm hmm,” Clark mumbled, so she would know he was listening this time.
“What does l-f-t-n-d-r-y spell?” Lois wondered.
“Where do you see that?” Clark looked around, hoping to catch up with the conversation that had seemingly left him despite the fact that he was really listening this time.
“It’th on the back of that red car. It thayth ‘l-f-t-n-d-r-y.’ I know, becauthe I’m a good thpeller. Is that his name?”
“No,” Clark muttered, wondering how to explain license plates to the little girl. He decided he was too tired and took the coward’s way out. “It says, ‘leftindiary.”
“Oh.” Lois was silent for a moment while she digested the new information. “So what doeth that mean?”
“It’s the Dutch word for chair,” Clark told her, hoping she would start chattering again and leave him alone. Didn’t four-year-olds take naps sometimes?
“My mommy hath a thpecial chair we’re not allowed to thit in, but thometime when she’th not looking I thit in it anyway and pretend I’m her. I like her. Where ith my mommy?”
Clark sighed. He pulled the car over into an alley so he could make eye contact with the little girl. While it was always possible for him to introduce the little girl to Ellen Lane, something told him that his future mother-in-law would probably freak out. Somehow, it didn’t seem to be in the best interest of the child to do that just yet. Not until they knew a little bit more. Until then, he would do his best to keep things on a need-to-know basis.
“Ith my mommy at one of thothe hothpitals again? Not at the hothpital where she workth—I don’t mean that. I mean one of those hothpitals for people that get drunk all the time. Daddy thayth she went to the rest home to get thome rest, but she told me the rest home was kind of like a hothpital for drunkth.”
“Your mommy hasn’t been drunk in a long time,” Clark told her truthfully. “She’s doing just fine, and she doesn’t need to go to a rest home. But I’m afraid you’re going to need to stay with me for a little while longer. Is that okay?”
“Okay,” Lois decided. She leaned back against the car seat and sat quietly for the rest of the trip to the Daily Planet.
Lois seemed to like the Daily Planet building. The globe in front was rather eye-catching and the armed security guard in the lobby was rather impressive, too. Lois asked if she could hold his gun, but the security man politely declined.
Clark whisked her into the elevator and hurried her through the newsroom. He had almost succeeded in getting her into Perry’s office without incident, when Lois stopped in her tracks.
“Did that lady forget her shirt?” Lois wondered, rather loudly as she pointed across the newsroom to Cat Grant. Several titters only emphasized the rude question.
“That’s a friend of mine,” Clark practically whispered in her ear, hoping she would take the hint and lower her voice.
“But why ith your friend not wearing a shirt? Mommy hath pantieth that look like that. She callth it a bra, but we never thee her wear her bra. Ith that your friend’th bra?”
Cat wasn’t smiling as she stalked past the pair. “Let me give you a little word of wisdom, huh?” Cat bent down so she was staring into Lois’ face. “Children are to be seen and not heard.” Cat stormed away, feeling rather victorious.
“What’th wrong with her that she can’t hear children?” Lois wondered aloud as Clark pushed her into Perry’s office.
