By 3:00 that afternoon Lois was beginning to wonder whether her plan would work after all. The whole thing depended on Trask showing up at the Kent farm to confront Clark, as Mr. Wells had said he had done in the timeline that had gotten Clark killed. The one they were now trying to preempt. But Mr. Wells hadn’t said exactly *when* Trask would arrive, and all three of them—Lois, Martha, and Jonathan-- were running out of ways to ‘look natural’ hanging around the farmhouse. They needed to stay together. It would make Clark’s job—swooping in as Superman to save the day—a lot easier if the three of them were all in one place. But Lois was supposedly in Smallville to investigate the EPA activities at the Irig farm. How much hanging out at the Kents’ place could she get away with? Hopefully Trask would be too busy trying to find Superman to think clearly about Lois Lane’s whereabouts. She wished he would just turn up so they could get this over with.
Meanwhile, they were stuck here, waiting. Lois tried to think of it as just another stake-out. It almost worked. Jonathan sat at the now cleared kitchen table reading the Daily Planet cover to cover. <Why should you be surprised that they have the Daily Planet delivered?> Lois scolded herself, <Their son does write for it.> She’d been startled earlier by the headline below the fold on the front page. ‘Smart Kids Back to Normal, Beckworth School Reports’ with the subhead ‘DCS Stresses Need for Foster Parents.’ It was the byline that caught her eye: ‘by Lois Lane and Clark Kent.’ Clark had told her about the case when he brought her up to speed on the weeks she’d missed. But seeing it in black and white made it seem more concrete.
Martha was removing dishes from the cupboards one shelf at a time, cleaning the shelves with a damp cloth, and finally returning the dishes to their places before moving on to the next shelf. It was utter make-work, but there was only so much puttering to be done in the already neat kitchen. Lois was standing by with a clean dish towel, ready to dry the next shelf off before Martha replaced its contents.
Yep. She was bored. And she felt like a fifth wheel. At least if she’d been home in her own kitchen she could have burned some of her nervous energy off by scrubbing the grout between her tiles.
Martha’s quiet voice broke the silence. “Lois, while we’re stuck waiting here, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.” She turned her face briefly to the ceiling and addressed her son, who had been hovering high above the farmhouse for the last hour. “And I know you can hear me too, Clark,” she said, “so listen up.”
She turned back to Lois. “I don’t know how much you saw or heard when you were in the other Lois’s world.” Lois opened her mouth to respond, but Martha overrode her. “And I don’t need to know. I understand that you are not the young woman I met yesterday who was so in love with my son—my older son.” Martha gave her head a little shake to clear that bit of confusion away.
“In any case, my point is this: nobody knows how things are going to work out for you and Clark. You two will have to decide that for yourselves, and I expect it might take a while to even know what you want. But, regardless of whether or not you ever develop a romantic attachment to my son, you are already a part of this family.”
Before Lois could protest, Martha hurried to explain herself. “I’ve watched you with him, Lois. I listened to the two of you brainstorming this plan of yours. You already understand that Superman is only one aspect of Clark Kent, and you treat him as a whole person.
“I won’t lie to you; Jonathan and I were not happy when we first heard that Lois Lane, crack reporter, might know our son’s secret. We worried. A lot. But I see now that all three of us can depend on you to guard Clark’s welfare. And I want you to know that goes both ways. Besides Jonathan, me, and Clark himself, you are the only person on the planet who knows this secret. And a secret this big is also a burden. I just want you to know that you’ll never need to bear it alone. You’ll always be welcome here, whatever happens or doesn’t happen between you and Clark.”
“Mrs. Ke…Martha,” Lois squeezed out of her tightening throat, “I don’t know what to say.”
“No need to say anything, dear,” Martha smiled. “I’ve always wanted a daughter, anyway, and now I’ve got one, one way or the other.” She addressed the ceiling again. “Hear that, Clark? She might be your girl or she might be your sister, but, either way, she’s family. So you’d better treat her right!”
Before Lois could worry too much what Clark thought about his mother’s little speech, the sound of tires on gravel brought three pairs of eyes to the kitchen door. <It’s about time!> Lois thought. She reached into the pocket of her denim jacket. She was ready.
Glancing through the door to the living room, Lois could see two of Trask’s gunmen standing on the front porch. Trask himself glared through the window of the back door, pounding his fist on the wood. His muffled shout came through clear enough. “Open up! Federal agent!”
Without rushing, but without hesitation either, Jonathan approached the kitchen door. Keeping one foot braced against the door, he opened it a few inches, just enough to talk clearly with the person on the other side. “What can I do for you?” he inquired politely. Lois reflected that this was probably not the Kents’ first encounter with curious government agents.
“You can open this door and let me in. Or I can let myself in.” With that last menacing comment, Trask unholstered his handgun and pointed it at Jonathan’s chest. Jonathan looked from the gun to Trask’s face and, with remarkable calm, delivered the line that Lois had taught him. “Do you have a warrant to enter my home?”
The smile Trask gave was almost a leer. The man was obviously unhinged. “Sure I do.” He gave the gun a little wave. “I have it right here.” Good. Trask was playing his part whether he realized it or not.
Jonathan didn’t miss a beat. “What you have is not a warrant; it’s a gun. I am letting you in my home under duress and I stand on my Fourth Amendment rights. This is an illegal search of my home without due process.” <Good job, Jonathan. You got all the key words in there.> Lois knew that Trask could care less, but this would help their case later. Assuming that the rest of the confrontation also went according to plan.
Having delivered his assigned lines, Jonathan stepped back, allowing Trask to push his way past him and into the kitchen. The Colonel waved to the men on the front porch, and they came into the house as well. They immediately began a thorough and none-too-careful search of the Kent living room, tossing the cushions from the sofa, emptying the desk drawers of their contents, and generally making a mess of things.
“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” Martha started into the living room to confront the armed men, but allowed herself to be restrained by Jonathan’s hand on her arm. There was a plan to be followed, and it didn’t involve any of them getting shot. Instead, she turned her indignation on the men’s leader. “Why are your men destroying my property? What are they looking for, anyway?” she demanded.
“A meteorite, Mrs. Kent. You *are* Martha Kent, I presume?” The man was almost gloating.
Martha ignored his question and responded with one of her own. “A meteorite? What makes you think I have a meteorite hidden in my living room? And why would the government want it even if I did?”
“What I want is a weapon,” Trask explained. “I have reason to believe that our nation is under attack from hostile alien forces. And this meteorite may very well be the only weapon that can stop them.” The scary thing was that he said it so calmly, as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world.
The men had finished their investigation of the living room, and now they crowded into the kitchen and started opening cupboards and drawers. “Would you stop?!” Martha pleaded with the men. She turned to Trask. “I swear there is no meteorite or any other kind of rock in this house. Would you please stop making such a mess of my things?” It was true, too. The glowing rock had never even entered the house and at the moment it was lying in tiny pieces in Larry Kent’s septic system two counties over.
Trask gave some kind of hand signal to his men. They didn’t stop their search altogether, but at least they were more considerate of Martha’s belongings. They seemed content to rifle through her things without actually dumping them out on the floor. She wasn’t really worried. There wasn’t anything incriminating for them to find. Her mind went briefly to the black lace teddy tucked in the back of her pajama drawer. Hopefully they’d just take a cursory glance and notice the conspicuous absence of glowing green rocks. Honestly! If they really wanted to find that hunk of poison, they should try blacking all the windows, turning off the lights, and just looking for the green glow!
The search was making plenty of noise, but it really wasn’t getting them anywhere. Lois needed to get Trask talking again. “Alien invasion?” she challenged him, “You’re not still going on about Superman being an alien menace, are you?”
The strongman turned his attention on Lois. He hadn’t seemed to focus on her until now. “Lois Lane,” he said thoughtfully. “What brings you to Smallville, Kansas? Isn’t it a little out of your bailiwick? And where is your partner? I’d expected to find him here, not you.”
“He’s running an errand. And I could ask you the same thing. What are you doing here?” Lois shot back.
“Oh, that’s easy,” Trask replied, not seeming the least bit worried. “Smallville is part of my portfolio. It’s the site of a UFO landing in 1966. Only in this case, UFO is really a misnomer. This particular flying object is easily identified. It’s a small spacecraft with a very distinctive symbol on the front. Superman’s symbol. In addition, Smallville is also the source of a certain glowing green rock that turned up in a U.S. Geological Survey lab two days ago. Coincidence? I don’t think so. I think this rock, which the geologists tell me is ‘not of earthly origin,’ is a piece of Superman’s homeworld. And I believe that its radiation, which is apparently harmless to humans, would be lethal to an alien from Krypton.”
“So your great plan to save the world is to kill Superman with a glowing green rock?” Lois made the question sound as dismissive as she could. The man was crazy, and she wanted that made crystal clear.
“In a nutshell, yes.” That’s the thing about crazy people. They don’t realize how crazy they are. Of course, if Trask actually *had* a piece of that rock, his plan could actually work. But nobody needed to know that, least of all Trask himself.
“You’re crazy, Trask,” Lois accused. “There is no green glowing rock in this house, and there never was.” That was true, as far as it went. “Meanwhile, you are trampling all over the property rights of these law-abiding citizens who have no connection to you or Superman to begin with. Why don’t you just leave them alone?”
“Rights? Rights, Ms. Lane? What are rights compared to the safety and security of the entire world? I’m trying to stop a race of superpowered alien beings from taking over the planet. I need that rock to do it. I’ve dug all over the Irig farm, and that rock is nowhere to be found. I don’t have to be Sherlock Holmes to figure out who Irig probably gave it to: the parents of Clark Kent, the reporter with more Superman stories than even you, Ms. Lane. If a few people have to get their precious rights stepped on along the way, so be it.”
“So the Kents are just in your way? The same way George Thompson was? Was his right to life and liberty just another inconvenience that stood in the way of your mission?” Lois was taunting him now, and a saner man would have wondered why and held his tongue. But Jason Trask was no longer a sane man.
“George Thompson was a traitor to his country. He had a sworn duty to protect this nation, and instead he chose to protect the alien. His life was forfeit.”
“And you were the appointed executioner?”
“I was the only one who saw what needed to be done for the greater good.”
“So you killed him.” He wouldn’t be stupid enough to admit it straight out, but Lois had to try.
“It was necessary.” He was that stupid! Lois couldn’t believe her luck.
The sound of boots clomping down the stairs announced that the search of the bedrooms was over. The two henchmen appeared in the kitchen doorway and shook their heads. “Negative, sir,” the older one reported.
“Search the outbuildings,” Trask commanded.
“That won’t be necessary.” The deep, familiar voice sounded from the open back door. Superman stood there, arms crossed over his chest, filling the frame with all his colorful splendor.
Before anyone could react, he became a blur of motion, disarming Trask and his men before tying the men back-to-back with a length of rope and holding Trask aloft by his shirt collar. Idly, Lois wondered where he’d kept the rope. She didn’t think the cape had pockets that big.
Trask began protesting, but stopped when Superman turned a baleful gaze on him. “I’d be very careful what I said right now if I were you.” Lois noticed that his voice was at least an octave lower than Clark’s. “You might want to exercise your right to remain silent, even if it is a bit late.”
Superman turned his carefully polite face to Lois. “Ms. Lane, do you have what you need?” he intoned. <No wonder I never saw it,> she thought. <He doesn’t look a thing like Clark when he acts like that.>
Lois removed a device from her jacket pocket. She pressed a button, resulting in a brief low humming noise, then a second button. A pounding noise could be heard coming from the device, followed by Trask’s muffled but clearly distinguishable demands to be let in. Lois grinned. “It’s all there on tape.”
Holding Trask at arm’s length with his right hand, Superman reached for the tape recorder with his left. “May I?” he requested.
“Certainly,” Lois replied. Clark tucked the tape, recorder and all, behind his back. <Ah! So there is at least some kind of pocket back there.>
Rachel Harris appeared at the door. With admirable composure, she addressed the superhero. “I’ve got the two from the van in custody. My deputy has them under guard in the patrol car. Anything I can do for you here?”
“Yes, please, Sheriff,” replied the hero. <You’d never know he was addressing his childhood friend,> Lois thought, <He really is the consummate actor.> “Could you stand guard over these two,” indicating the captured gunmen, “while I deliver Colonel Trask to my military contact?”
“Certainly,” the sheriff replied.
As Superman turned to leave, still carrying Trask in one hand as one might carry a dead rat or other vermin, Trask gained his voice again and lashed out in frustration. “You knew he was here all along, didn’t you, Lane? You’re part of his conspiracy! A traitor to your country, to your world! Are you in love with him, Lane? Is that what it is? You’ve been seduced by an alien? Do you know how perverted that is? Is that part of his plan? To contaminate the gene pool with his half-breed alien mongrels?”
“That’s enough, Trask.” Superman gave the man a cold, challenging glare. “We’ve got a long way to fly, and your ranting might disturb my concentration. I wouldn’t want to drop you.” And with that, the hero turned the madman to face away from him and, holding the man with a hand under each arm, lifted him into the sky. Trask fainted from the shock before they cleared the cloud layer. Mercifully, it would be a quiet trip.
****
By 5:00 all the excitement was over. The older Clark had been right about General Rankin. Superman had had no trouble getting in to see the General, who had been surprised but pleased to be handed Bureau 39’s rogue leader on a platter. MPs had been quickly dispatched from Fort Riley to pick up Trask’s underlings. Rachel and her deputy were headed back to the Corn Festival.
As the last patrol car pulled away, Lois and the three Kents lingered in the front yard. Nobody was in any hurry to head back into the house where they’d been effectively trapped for most of the afternoon. Clark stood with both hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. He stirred the loose gravel of the driveway with the toe of his worn workboot. Martha put a supportive hand on her son’s back. “Clark? Is something wrong?” she gently prodded.
“Not really, Mom,” he shrugged, “I guess the whole thing is just a little overwhelming.”
Lois looked at Clark closely, surprised to hear her own earlier feelings echoed by her friend. He gave the gravel a stronger kick that sent one pebble flying into the distance. “You should have seen how General Rankin looked at me when I showed up,” Clark complained. “I didn’t have an appointment, I hadn’t called ahead. By rights, he shouldn’t have given me the time of day. But the moment I showed up the desk officer showed me right to him and he looked at me like I was some kind of…” he trailed off, embarrassed to even say it out loud.
“Some kind of what, Clark? Celebrity? Hero? Greek god?” Lois didn’t understand Clark’s reaction. It was as if he were embarrassed to be Superman. “You are, Clark. You’re all of those things. When you wear that Suit, you are the most recognizable man on the entire planet. And the most powerful. Of course they were happy to see you.”
“But I’m not, Lois! I’m not a god!” The frustration in Clark’s voice was mounting. How could he make her understand? “I’m just a hick from Nowheresville. I never wanted to be famous. I just wanted to have a cover so I can help out without ruining the rest of my life. I never expected all this attention.”
And that was it in a nutshell. Lois had the sudden realization that Superman, the grand hero that everyone assumed had come to earth on a well-thought-out mission to aid humanity, was actually one giant improvisation. Clark had greatness thrust upon him, and he was making it up as he went along. And the only three people who could possibly understand that, who could give him the support he needed to do what only he could do, were all standing right here in the front yard of a Kansas farmhouse.
Putting on her brightest smile, Lois took Clark by the hand and pulled him toward the house. “Come on, my reluctant hero,” she said cheerfully.
“Where are we going?” a bewildered Clark asked as he let himself be dragged along.
“I’m going to freshen up and grab my purse, and then you are going to show me what a real Kansas Corn Festival is like.” Lois was forced to stop because Clark was no longer moving along behind her. She turned to face him, her eyebrows raised. What was the hold-up?
“A date?” Clark looked pretty unsure of himself. “Are you certain that’s a good idea, Lois? I mean, we’re both on a little bit of a rebound, here. I don’t want to rush into anything.”
Lois rolled her eyes at him. “First off, it doesn’t have to be a date. I’ve been stuck in your parent’s kitchen all afternoon, and you’re feeling a little overwhelmed by the Superman hoopla. I figure we can both do with a little normalcy. So, forget Superman for the evening and just come be Clark for a while. We’ll have a good time.”
“And second?” he inquired.
“Second what?” What was he talking about?
“You said ‘First off, it doesn’t have to be a date.’ What’s the second?”
Oh, that. “Second, how can we be on the rebound from each other? We agreed that we aren’t going to get together just because They did. But if we find out we *want* to be together, and we don’t let ourselves just to prove that we’re not Them, then we’re still letting them run our lives for us, just in a reverse psychology kind of way. So forget about Them altogether. Let’s just go have some fun.”
He seemed to be convinced, because he let her pull him into the house. Ten minutes later, they were pulling out of the driveway in Jonathan’s pick-up truck, headed for town.
****
“I’m sorry about my mom,” Clark said after about the third mile of country road. The radio was playing Garth Brooks.
Lois turned her eyes from the window and looked at Clark in surprise. “What’s wrong with your mom?” she asked. “She’s a gem.”
“I know. I love my mom to death, but she does tend to stick her nose in where it doesn’t belong sometimes. I hope she didn’t put you off with her whole ‘welcome to the family’ speech.”
“She didn’t,” Lois reassured him. “I hadn’t really focused on it, but she’s got a point. It would be pretty hard to know this huge secret and not have anyone I could talk to about it. I think she just wanted me to know it was okay.”
“I’m sorry about that, too.” What was with Clark tonight? He seemed determined to feel guilty about something.
“Sorry about what, Clark? Would you please stop beating yourself up?” It was getting almost irritating.
“That you’re stuck with this big secret now. I hadn’t thought about what a burden it is.”
Lois let out a frustrated sigh. “Pull over,” she commanded.
“Huh?”
“Pull the truck over. We’re going to clear this up right now, and I want your attention on me, not the road.”
Clark did as she asked and turned to face her expectantly. Who knew that Superman could be so insecure?
“Clark, do you know what I’ve been dreaming of ever since you flew me back to the office after the Prometheus launch?”
“Sure. You’ve been mooning over Superman like a dewy-eyed cheerleader.”
“Maybe at first, yes. But it didn’t take long for me to realize that Superman is a real person with feelings just like everybody else. What I’ve wanted for weeks is to be the one person that Superman could trust. That he could come to when things weren’t going right, or when he just needed a friend. So don’t apologize for burdening me with something I’ve been longing after for a long time. I *want* to be your friend. If you’ll let me.”
Clark gave a deep, warm chuckle that filled the truck cab. “I thought that was supposed to be my line,” he said.
Lois returned his smile with a wry little twist to her mouth. “Yeah, well, like you said before, we’ve both been pretty good at the hiding game. Now, let’s knock if off and go have some fun, shall we?”
“You got it,” Clark replied, pulling the truck back onto the road. “You are in for a real treat, I’ll have you know.”
“Oh, really? The Corn Festival is the place to be, is it?”
“Sure. We’ll see the Corn Queen and her court, the Husk-Off, the Corn-o-Rama. Popcorn, creamed corn, corn-on-the-cob. We’re in luck.”
Lois laughed. “Be still my heart.”
****
An hour later, Lois gasped and looked down at her chest in dismay. Only Lois Lane could manage to spill half a barbecue sandwich down the front of a pale yellow t-shirt. Earlier, it had been a surprise to Lois to find the clothes that her older counterpart had packed for the trip to Smallville. Lois would have packed more business suits for a field investigation, but Lane obviously knew how to blend in in a rural community.
“Lois, are you okay?” Clark’s voice from across the picnic table brought her back to the present.
“Of course I’m okay, Clark. It’s just a stain,” she replied. Though she didn’t really want to go through the rest of the evening with a big red splotch on the front of her shirt. And another one on the front of her jeans as well, now that she noticed it.
Clark leaned in closer and spoke for her ears only. “Do you want me to fly you back to the house to change?” Now, there was a thought. This guy really could come in handy, couldn’t he? But Lois had another idea.
“Actually, Clark, I don’t think that will be necessary,” she answered him as she rose from her seat and picked up her purse. “You stay put and finish your dinner, and I’ll be right back.”
As Lois melted into the crowd, Clark settled back in his seat and picked up his corn-on-the-cob. He’d only taken three bites when Rachel Harris took the seat across from him.
“Clark! You missed all the excitement at your folks’ place this afternoon. Everything okay there now?”
“Everything’s fine, Rach. I think Mom and Dad have had enough adventure to last them a while, though. They decided to call it a day and turn in early.”
Rachel eyed the half-full plate of food across from Clark’s. “You’re not here alone, then, are you?” she asked in a hopeful tone.
“No. Lois is with me. She just had to take care of something for a minute.”
“Oh. Her.” The disappointment in the sheriff’s voice was obvious. But Clark never got a chance to respond to it, because at that moment Lois reappeared dressed in a very flattering brown calico dress with a v-neck and a slit in the front that showed just a hint of white petticoat when she moved. Her soft boots set off the entire outfit and made her look the picture of the country girl.
“Where did this come from?” Clark couldn’t hide the admiration in his voice.
Lois gave a little shrug and a sheepish smile. “When in Smallville…” she answered.
A wave of applause arose from the nearby dance floor where the country-rock band had just finished one song and was preparing to start another. Rachel stood up and beckoned to Clark. “Come on, Clark, let’s show ‘em how it’s done.”
Clark hesitated, looking from Rachel to Lois and back again. “It’s okay, Clark,” Lois told him, “You go get warmed up. I’ll finish my supper and you and I can catch the next one.” With a reluctant glance back at Lois, Clark followed Rachel onto the dance floor.
Lois never did finish her dinner, though, because almost as soon as Clark and Rachel left her table, a tall, slim man in Wrangler jeans and a red buffalo plaid shirt approached her with an easy grin. “You must be Lois,” the stranger greeted her.
“I must be,” she replied, wondering at his familiar manner.
“I’m Pete Ross. Clark and I have been pals since kindergarten. I see he’s left you to your own devices.”
“I don’t think Sheriff Harris was going to take ‘no’ for an answer,” Lois defended her partner.
Pete gave an easy chuckle. “No, I don’t suppose she was. But that doesn’t mean you have to sit here twiddling your thumbs. What say you and I give them a run for their money?” He held out a hand to her, inviting her to join him on the dance floor.
Lois hesitated only a moment. “Sure. Why not?” She rose from her seat and followed Pete into the crowd of dancers. She still had a trick or two up her sleeve.
The band was playing a line dance, and as the steps made a quarter turn to the right, Lois found herself next to Clark, who now had Rachel in front of him. He turned to Lois in obvious surprise, taking in the ease of her steps and the gracefulness of her movements. “Hey! You can really do this!” he shouted above the music.
“Last year a girlfriend convinced me it would be a good way to meet guys,” Lois explained.
“Did it work?” Clark inquired.
Lois laughed, and, as the steps turned them away from each other again, threw her answer over her shoulder at him. “Define guys,” she grinned.
When the next song began, it was a slow ballad. Pete looked from Lois to Clark to Rachel. What were friends for? “Come on Rachel,” Pete said, reaching for the sheriff’s hand. “I’ll win you a Superman doll.” Rachel gave one last look at Clark and Lois before making the best of a bad situation. “Sure, Pete,” she answered with as much good cheer as she could muster. “Show me what you can do.”
The other dancers were either pairing up for the slow dance or leaving the dance floor. Lois looked at Clark. It was up to him now. Let him take the lead.
With a hopeful half-smile, he held his hand out to her. “Dance with me?” he asked softly. Without a word, Lois stepped into his waiting arms. A strange sense of déjà-vu encompassed her as they danced. Only the night before, by her time, she had been in the arms of another Clark, dancing to old standards in an elegant ballroom, he in a tuxedo and she in an evening gown. Now she was being gently rocked by her own Clark in jeans and cowboy boots. But the sense of homecoming was exactly the same. And this time there was none of the confusion of the previous night to mar the experience. So this time, when Clark lowered his face toward hers, she made no mad dash for the ladies’ room. Instead, she lifted her face to meet him.
As their lips parted a moment later, she opened her eyes to see her own hazy desire reflected in his. Still swaying to the music, he pulled her close. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek against the soft material of his flannel shirt. She could hear his heart pounding in her ear. She’d never heard a more beautiful sound. One strong arm stayed around her waist, holding her near, and his other hand stroked her hair tenderly. His voice was a whisper in her ear. “I guess that make this a real date, huh?”
She raised her head and looked up into his smiling face. It was full of joy, and also of wonder. She knew exactly how he felt. Reaching up for another kiss, Lois replied in the same hushed tones, “I’d say it makes this a promising beginning.”
Fin
