Chapter 26: Dark Shadows Follow Me
I walk along a thin line, darling.
Dark shadows follow me.
Here’s where life’s dream lies disillusioned,
The edge of reality.
--“The Edge of Reality”
****
The night before D-Day, I didn’t go to sleep. The phone rang, and I let it go to the answering machine. My mom left a message, which I immediately deleted. The same thing happened a few more times. Once, it was my father who called. But I didn’t want to talk to either of my parents. They couldn’t make things better.
I paced, brooded, mumbled, Jericho watching me all the while as if I were crazy. But I just couldn’t calm down. Lois was getting married. My hopes were being dashed. Lois was getting married.
An hour after midnight, the phone rang again. I let the answering machine pick it up, but when I heard Lois’s voice, it struck a chord within me, and I rushed to the phone. “Lois?”
“Clark,” she returned, sounding surprised. “I was wondering where you were at one o’clock in the morning.”
“Sorry,” I mumbled abashedly as I moved to sit on the couch. It was a strange blessing to hear her voice. Maybe I was a masochist, but I was glad she called. Even if the things I had to say to her were things I couldn’t say to her.
A few seconds of awkward silence passed, and I wondered what was on her mind. But I didn’t feel I could ask that, so I just queried, “So, uh . . . how are you?”
“Oh, you know . . . I’m getting married tomorrow. It’s—it’s kind of a lot to take in.”
“Yeah,” I acknowledged, clearing my throat. Tell me about it, I thought.
“Lex is a nice man,” she said. The jealous part of me thought it sounded as if she were trying to convince herself, but the more practical part of me realized that she must respect Luthor if she was going to marry him. She was just reminding me that Luthor was a “nice man”—right? But why would she feel she had to do that?
“He’s done a lot of good for the city,” I conceded. I didn’t know what she wanted me to say. I’d tried to hide my dislike for him—whether I had succeeded or not, though, I wasn’t sure.
“Yeah . . . ”
I picked absently at a piece of lint on the couch cushion. “Like I said before—you should be with someone who can make you happy.”
She hesitated. “Clark—”
“Yes, Lois?”
I waited for her to reply. I could sense she wanted to talk—wanted to tell me something—but she didn’t seem to know how to voice it. When she didn’t say anything, I finally did. “Lois, are you okay?”
“Good night, Clark. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And before I could say anything, she had hung up.
I rested the phone in my lap and stared at it. And though she couldn’t hear me, I said, “Good night, Lois.”
I heaved a sigh and stood to put the phone up. A few minutes later, my hand drifted up to my cheek. There was moisture there.
****
In the morning, I felt sick. Disgusted. Heartbroken. Sorrow-filled. Desperate.
I probably would have vomited, but there was nothing in my stomach. I tried to touch my necklace for reassurance, but nothing could make me feel better. The day was only going to get worse, and every part of me knew it.
I changed into my tux and went to Luthor’s tower. There were a lot of people scurrying around making last-minute preparations. The wedding, of course, was going to be held in the ballroom—where Lois and Luthor had first met. When I saw the proud groom, I mumbled a few congratulatory phrases. Fortunately, Luthor was too focused on his upcoming nuptials to pay me much attention.
My heart pounded, and all-too-soon I was following the business tycoon up to the front, where the archbishop was. Of course Luthor would want to involve one of the upper Catholic clergy. I was just surprised he hadn’t gotten the pope.
When the music began playing, I felt as if there were a roaring noise in my ears. Lucy, in her position as maid of honor, approached. Next came a small ringbearer with a satin pillow bearing the two rings, those heart-breaking symbols of marital harmony. Then a flower girl with feathered angel wings came down the aisle, scattering red petals in her wake. I felt as if every petal was a drop of my blood being spilled.
And then the music faded. The “Wedding March” began, and everyone stood. Lois appeared on the other side of the room, a vision in white. I stared at her, a dull thud now sounding in my ears. As she walked forward with the older gentleman I suspected was her father, she tried to keep her gaze on her husband-to-be. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that her eyes were somehow continually drawn to me. I was quickly struck by the feeling that Lois didn’t look as happy as she should have for someone who was about to marry the love of her life. But as I looked at the trembling of her chin, I realized it must have just been nerves. She was, after all, being showcased in front of the world as the bride of Lex Luthor. It would have been odd if she hadn’t been nervous.
And then she was standing up with Luthor. He looked into her face, and she stared at him a little hesitantly. The people watching sat back down, and the archbishop began, “Dearly beloved . . . ”
Tapping a pair of fingers against my leg, I tried to pay attention to the clergyman’s words, but I just kept staring at Lois and thinking about how she couldn’t make this great mistake. Intermittently, I tried to tell myself it was better this way, but the thought was constantly being usurped by what I wished could be. It was all I could do to bite down on my tongue and keep from making a fool of myself.
Now that Lois was standing in front of everyone, she seemed determined to keep her gaze fixed on Luthor, who was suddenly saying, “I do.”
My breath caught as I realized Lois was next. The two words that symbolized a blessing to almost everyone in the room were going to be spoken—but they were anathema to me.
The archbishop turned his attention to that beautiful woman who was breaking my heart. “Do you, Lois, take this man to be your lawfully wedding husband from this day forward, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish for as long as you both shall live?”
“I—” she started, causing my chest to constrict. Then she moved her eyes to me. “I can’t,” she whispered.
“Wh-what?” Luthor asked in confusion, looking more discomposed than he probably ever had before in his life. “Lois, darling?”
“I’m sorry, Lex,” she told him softly. And then she was running out of the room, everyone watching her in sheer shock.
My heart was singing.
Feeling a level of happiness I hadn’t realized was possible, I took a few steps forward. My eyes suddenly met Perry’s in the crowd, and he mouthed, “Go after her.”
Obediently, I left the ballroom. I could feel Luthor’s eyes boring into my back, and I heard him whisper viciously, “Kent.” But I didn’t think anything of it. I was too happy.
I reached out with my super hearing and caught the faint sound of sobs coming from Lois’s dressing room. My spirits dipping with the realization of how Lois must feel, I slowed my steps and hesitated in front of the door. But finally I brought myself to knock. “Lois? It’s Clark . . . . ”
A few seconds later, she opened the door, and I entered the room. She locked the door and turned toward me. I felt the sudden ache to wipe away all her tears.
“Superman told me I should . . . marry the man I love,” she said in between her sniffles. “But I don’t love Lex. I was just . . . attracted to his power, I guess.”
I hesitated only briefly before taking her into my arms. Resting my cheek on her head, I whispered, “It’s okay, Lois.” The feel of her in my arms was so blissful, though it was tainted by guilt—I felt guilty to be enjoying it so much after she had come so close to being another man’s wife.
Words began to spill out of her mouth. “I never slept with him, Clark. I just couldn’t. I guess I knew somehow even while we were dating that I couldn’t marry him . . . . I just wish it hadn’t taken me this long to realize that.” She pulled back and stared at me, mascara smeared under her eyes. “When I was standing up there, I knew I couldn’t marry him. I realized I didn’t love him.”
I wanted to hug her—to wipe away her tears—but I just stood there, motionless. I could feel she had something more to say.
She met my eyes nervously. “I realized I loved someone else. I’m—I’m not sure how he feels about me, but I do know that I can’t marry one man when I’m in love with another.”
I looked away from her. To say I was in utter agony was to put the situation lightly. Of course the farmboy couldn’t measure up to the superhero. Why would a woman who could love an invincible hero in tights ever look twice at a country hick who flinched every time she touched him?
When I returned my gaze to her, I could see she was waiting for a response from me. Softly, I said, “You’ve had a big day. You must be stressed by everything that’s happened. Why don’t I go wait outside the door while you change? Then we can go home and watch a Mel Gibson movie.”
She gave me a fragile smile. “All right.”
I unlocked the door and opened it, stepping outside the room and closing the door. Luthor was waiting there with a manic glint in his eyes.
Disturbed, I asked him, “What do you want, Luthor? She doesn’t love you.”
He smiled a bitter smile. “And who does she love? You?” When I didn’t say anything, he lifted his chin. “So, she does love you.”
“I never said that,” I told him curtly. “Just leave her alone.”
After giving me a chillingly villainous look, he walked away. I shivered and continued to wait for Lois.
****
After Lois finished changing, I took her to her apartment, and then I guided her to the couch, where I sat beside her.
“Would you like to watch a movie?” I asked her gently.
She shook her head. “No—I’m sorry.”
I hesitantly put my arm around her and pulled her close to me.
But she stiffened and resisted me. “Clark, I think you should go home.”
“Lois—”
“I want to be alone.” She stood up and walked away from me, staring at the slowly moving fish in her large tank.
I got to my feet and moved closer to her. “Lois, I think you need a friend right now. After everything that just happened—”
“After everything that just happened, I need to be left alone,” she returned emotionlessly. But I could see the reflection of her eyes in the fish tank—and there were tears there.
“I don’t want to leave you here by yourself—”
“I’ll be fine, Clark,” she said firmly. “I just need some time to think.”
“Lois—”
“Go!” she bit out.
Swallowing, I whispered, “Okay, Lois. I’ll—I’ll see you tomorrow.”
But she didn’t respond, though I waited for a few seconds. Finally, I sighed and slipped out the door. I hated to leave her, but I had no choice. “Goodbye, Lois,” I whispered.
I returned home feeling both dejected and elated. I had been so happy that she wasn’t going to marry Lex Luthor—but now I was realizing just how stressful this had been for Lois. Still, she’d given me explicit directions to go away. I just needed to give her a little time and space.
“Hey,” I greeted Krypto quietly, stooping to scratch his head on my way to the answer machine. The light was blinking once, and I pressed the PLAY button.
“Clark, this is your mother. Call me as soon as you can.”
Taking a deep breath, I grabbed the phone and dialed my parents’ number. Before long, I was talking to them both.
“Clark, we’ve been so worried about you,” Mom told me. “We saw on the news that Lois didn’t marry Lex Luthor. What happened?”
I shifted uncomfortably on the couch. “Well—she realized she didn’t love him. She . . . turned him down at the altar.”
“Clark, that’s wonderful!” Mom exclaimed. “That means you can—”
“No,” I said resolutely, cutting her off. “I’ve told you before. I can’t be in a relationship with Lois.”
“Son—” Dad tried.
“Please. Let’s not get into this again. I—I feel terrible for Lois, but . . . there’s this small part of me that’s relieved. I didn’t think Lois and Luthor were meant for each other.”
“You’re right, Clark. Lois was meant for someone else.” Left unmentioned by Mom was the fact that she thought Lois was meant to be with me, but I didn’t bother arguing with her—there was a part of me that wanted to believe that, but I couldn’t let myself.
Krypto came up to me with his tail waving about in the air and his leash in his mouth. I sighed. “I think Jericho wants to go on a walk. I’ll have to talk to you later.”
“All right, Clark. We love you.”
“I love you both, too.”
Hanging up the phone, I told the expectant Krypto. “I’ll take you on a walk, but I have to dye you first.”
I changed into some jogging clothes and then dyed Krypto, “transforming” him into Jericho. I frowned as I realized Jericho’s collar wasn’t where I had last left it. Looking around, I found chewed-up pieces of it. Sighing, I held it up to Jericho’s face. “See this, Jericho? This was bad.”
He whimpered and lowered his ears, and I took pity on him and patted his head. “All right. I guess we’ll just have to use your Krypto collar. But don’t do it again.”
Jericho barked happily. Pulling my locket out from under my shirt, I clutched it gently before letting it drop to rest against my chest. It had been a gift from Lois, and I wanted that connection. I wouldn’t be hiding it away that day.
I clipped the leash to the Krypto collar, and I went down to the street with Jericho. I felt bad for the joy that had swept over me, but I just hadn’t wanted Lois to marry Luthor. I didn’t think he could make her happy.
Still, I couldn’t believe that the reason she had rejected Luthor was love for Superman. Clark Kent was invisible, the friend whose shoulder could be occasionally cried on. But Superman was held up on a pedestal, the “Greek god” (as she’d called him once) to be pined after. The fact that I was both people didn’t make me feel any better. In fact, it made me feel worse.
I couldn’t ever tell Lois that I was Superman. And it was probably easier that she love Superman rather than Clark—it would be much more awkward for me to reject her love as Clark than as Superman—but it still stung. It made me feel . . . well, not worthless, but certainly not valued.
Mired in such thoughts, I almost didn’t notice when it started to rain. I nearly returned to my apartment, but Jericho seemed to be enjoying the rain so much that I delayed it. When he saw fit to jump into a mud puddle, however, I quickly changed my mind.
When we got to my apartment building, I unlocked the door and walked inside with Jericho. I threw my keys on the table and took a few steps forward, only to freeze when I realized I wasn’t alone. A whole host of guns were pointed at me.
Jericho growled, readying himself to attack, and I said sharply, “Nyet!” But though the dog stood down, he continued to growl in warning.
One of the gunmen pointed his gun at Jericho, aiming for his chest.
“Leave him alone,” a blond man said. “He’s just a dog.”
“He’d just as soon bite you as lick you,” the first man said. “You’re nothing but a softie.”
“The Boss didn’t tell us to off anyone, so can it.”
“I’ll can it when I want to,” growled the first man. “You can’t gimme orders.”
“Waste one of those bullets in that gun, and the Boss will have your hide,” the blond man proclaimed. “Those bullets are just for if Superman shows up.”
My breath caught in my throat. More trigger-happy men with meteor rock bullets? I felt panic begin to rise. Before, I’d been fortunate enough that they had left me alone after shooting me—but that didn’t seem like it would be the case this time. And could a meteor rock bullet hurt the thick-skinned dog?
The two men continued to argue, and—feeling fearful—I wrote a note at super speed that said “Clark Kent has been kidnapped by the ‘Boss’(?)—Call police and follow dog” and folded it and slipped it under Jericho’s collar.
A third man finally stopped the two others from arguing, and he looked at me. “Go outside, Kent. And keep your hands where I can see them.”
I held my hands up by my head, but as I passed by Jericho, I pretended to trip and fell to my knees. I thought briefly of Perry, who had already saved me once—but I didn’t think Jericho knew him by name. I believed he knew Lois by name, but I couldn’t put her in danger. I would die a thousand deaths before I willingly did that. And so that left only one hope—and a slim one at that.
I told the dog in a low voice, “Retrieve firemen.”
He tilted his head at me, but I wasn’t sure if he was quizzical or contemplative, and there was no time to try a different plan of action.
Someone kicked me. “Get up.”
“Sorry,” I mumbled insincerely as I rose. They pushed me again, and I continued to move forward.
I didn’t know if Jericho actually knew what I meant when I said “firemen”—I had never tried to teach him the term. But it was possible he had made the connection between the word and the people anyway.
It wasn’t a great chance, but it was all I had.
