Fighting down the lump that had suddenly flared into her throat, Lois gave him a small wave and moved back into the staffroom.
She shut the door, locked it, and picked up the other container.
As she climbed the stairs, Lois made a decision.
If he returned the knife and fork after he'd eaten, she would get them out of the cell, and then she would step in.
She would walk into the cell - without a rod - and she would speak to Mr Kent. Face to face.
Part 5
When Mr Kent had finished eating his supper, he used his bottle of water to rinse the knife and fork and then put them on top of the container and placed them near the door.
As Lois watched him, half of her insides plummeted with nervous apprehension, and the other half surged in excited anticipation.
He'd given back the 'weapons'. He'd used the knife - for exactly the purpose she had intended - and returned it.
That had been her litmus test. Now, there was nothing to stop her from going into the cell. It was just before seven o'clock. Longford wasn't due for another three hours.
Should she go into the cell at twenty minutes to ten? That way, if anything *did* happen, there was a chance that Longford would realise she was in trouble.
Lois quelled that idea almost immediately.
If she didn't trust Mr Kent, she shouldn't go into the cell. Period.
If she did, she shouldn't be thinking about possible means of escape.
She opened the closet and removed the little pile of clothing. She put it in a bag. She took it out of the bag. If she walked into his cell holding a bag, he was going to wonder what it contained. She would freak out if *he* approached *her* holding a bag.
She put the clothes back in the closet.
Entering the cell was enough. Once they had negotiated that, it would be easier to give him the clothes.
So ... going into the cell.
How exactly was she going to do it?
Unlock the door. Walk in. Walk right up to him.
And then what?
Speak?
OK. Then what?
Well, that would depend on what he did.
Should she take in a cup of tea? Should she give it to him instead of leaving it on the floor?
Lois threw up her hands in frustration.
She didn't know how to do this.
She hadn't worked alone in such a long time ... She really needed her partner right now. This would be so much easier with Linda.
They would discuss it from every angle. They would propose ideas and counter ideas. They would come to a conclusion and implement it together.
Lois pushed aside those thoughts. She worked alone now and that wasn't going to change.
What was she going to do about Mr Kent?
She couldn't imagine doing this job for a considerable length of time and *not* going into the cell. Much as she had determined to remain detached, this wasn't a job that could be done from a distance.
But actually doing it ... Actually going into the cell ... The first time ...
It *wouldn't* be the first time - she'd been in there before.
Mr Kent wasn't going to hurt her.
He wasn't.
She was sure of it.
Lois leapt from her chair, strode purposefully to the door, and stopped as indecision ensnared her again.
The rods?
Leave them here?
Take one to the staffroom?
She had to lock her office. She was relying on the creak of the external door to alert her if Shadbolt or Longford arrived unexpectedly. However, if one of them came in quietly and realised she was in the cell, she didn't want them to be able to watch her undetected from the window in her office.
But if she locked the rods in her office, she would be completely without any means of defence.
"Aggghhhhh." Lois's exasperation erupted into a long groan.
She took one rod out of her office. She placed it at the top of the stairs and then locked her door.
She went down the stairs, her heart thumping so loudly that it reverberated through her jangly brain cells.
She went into the staffroom.
Pushed the key into the cell door.
Turned it.
Pressed -
From behind her, the external door creaked loudly into the stillness.
She frantically pulled the door shut, thrust the keys into her pocket, and scuttled to the sink.
The footsteps approached, and Lois spun around, knowing that if she looked one quarter as startled as she felt, she deserved to face a firing squad of questions.
It was Longford.
"L ...Longford," she said.
He smiled guardedly as he put a pillow and duvet on the bed that was tucked under the stairwell. "My mother thought it was very nice of you to do my shift last night. She said I should come in early and do a few extra hours." He shrugged. "And as I intend to sleep, I didn't mind."
"Ah ... thanks," Lois said. "I ... ah ... I was just about to make myself coffee."
"You can go if you want to."
Lois was sure that Longford wanted her to leave so he could settle into the bed and sleep away his shift. "OK," she said. "Thanks."
She left the staffroom and ducked into her office to activate the camera. She was confident that Longford's plans for the night hours included nothing that required more energy than slumber, so she set the tape to begin recording at six the next morning. Then she locked the closet - with Mr Kent's clothes safely inside - locked her office, picked up the rod, and went down the stairs.
Longford was making the bed.
"Longford," Lois said as she put the rod in the closet. "Are you aware that there is a camera in my office that records everything that happens in the cell during my absence?"
He straightened from the bed, and his eyebrows rolled together. "A camera?"
Lois nodded. "Trask set it up."
"Oh," he said slowly. "Ah ... no ... I didn't know that."
"I don't want you to go into the cell without calling me first," Lois said in a calm, cool tone. "If you do, I will know, and I will have you removed from the operation."
He nodded vigorously. "I understand."
"When Shadbolt gets here at six o'clock tomorrow morning, you can give the prisoner the bagel that is in that container." Lois pointed to the shelf above the fridge. "If you wish to include a cup of coffee you can. If you don't want to, that's all right."
"OK."
"One of you must hold the rod while the other puts the food into the cell." She took one of the cell keys from her bag and put it on the table. "That key is not to be taken from the premises."
Longford nodded again. "How long has Trask had the camera?"
"I don't know."
"But it's possible he had it when those men were killed?"
"Yeah," Lois said. "It's possible."
Longford said no more.
"Good night," Lois said. "Remember, other than for breakfast, the cell door isn't to be opened without my prior authorisation."
"Yes, Ms Lane," Longford said. "Goodnight."
She turned from the staffroom and left the compound - feeling oddly like she was abandoning a friend.
||_||
He'd heard the click of the lock and had been anticipating the door opening and the woman appearing.
Would she have another message for him? Another plane?
A lot of shocks had come through that door, but a woman brandishing a paper airplane probably topped them all.
In terms of shock factor, maybe not.
In terms of making him want to smile, it was unequalled.
He remembered the last time he had smiled.
It was when this same woman had given him candy.
Before that, he doubted he had smiled in over seven years.
She had walked in, her arm lifted high above her head and a look on her face that said she knew this was a crazy thing to do, but she was going to do it anyway.
He shook his head and touched his fingers to his mouth.
Yup, he was smiling.
It felt strange. Like entering a room that had been shut off for a long time.
When the lock had clicked, he'd thought she was coming in again.
But then, the door had shut abruptly.
He'd managed to turn up his hearing enough that he'd heard voices - nothing distinct - but voices. Someone else had arrived.
He picked up the dilapidated plane and ran his fingers along its wings. He unfolded it and relived their 'conversation'.
Her handwriting was large and loopy - as if her habit was to write quickly.
He knew she wouldn't come into his cell now.
But he had hope that she would come back tomorrow.
And that meant everything.
||_||
~~ Sunday ~~
Lois had gone to bed early.
She'd fallen asleep easily ... thinking about paper airplanes.
She'd awoken feeling refreshed and ready for whatever the day would bring.
Her first thought on waking had been the compound ... and whether Shadbolt and Longford had gotten the breakfast into the cell without incident.
After showering, she paused over her choice of clothes. Eventually, she decided on her newest pair of jeans, a plain white tee shirt, and a red sweater.
She spent twenty minutes searching through the boxes that she'd had no inclination to unpack since she'd moved into her apartment three weeks ago. She found two novels she had been meaning to read. She found an unopened jigsaw puzzle that Lucy had given her for Christmas five years ago. And, after a lot of rummaging, she pounced on the tennis racquet she had last used when she was in college. She'd *thought* she had kept it. She even found a tennis ball - it was a bit worn in places and slightly flat, but it would work just fine.
She put her dad's new sweatsuits into a bag and loaded everything into her Jeep. She placed the doggy stress ball in the passenger seat and drove to the nursing home.
"Ms Lane," Veronica greeted as Lois walked into the common area.
"Good morning, Veronica," Lois replied. The brightness in her voice sounded strange in her own ears. The nurse, however, didn't seem to notice anything awry.
She smiled like sunshine after a storm. "Call me 'Ronny'," she said.
"I got Dad some casual clothes," Lois said.
Ronny's face lit with excitement. "That's wonderful," she said. She moved closer and lowered her voice. "I forgot to mention it, but did you remember to put his name on them?"
Lois shook her head. It hadn't occurred to her that it would be needed.
Ronny patted her shoulder. "It's OK. I have a permanent marker that will do the trick."
"Do you want me to take them home and label them?" Lois asked.
"No," Ronny said. "If you can remember next time, that would be wonderful. It's my fault. I forgot to tell you."
"I wasn't in Metropolis when Dad moved in here," Lois said. "I missed all those little details."
Ronny smiled. "It's easily fixed. But it would be awful if Sam's lovely new clothes went to the laundry and got lost, wouldn't it?"
Lois nodded.
"Your dad is still in bed," Ronny said. "He's had breakfast, and I'll be in there in about thirty minutes to get him up."
"I'll go and talk to him," Lois said.
Ronny gave her another motherly pat on the arm and turned to talk to a resident.
Lois took the bag into her dad's bedroom.
After greeting him with a kiss, Lois took the sweatsuits from the bag and held them up for him to see. There was no noticeable response to the first one, but Lois continued with the second. Her dad had never had a great interest in clothes.
Lastly, she took the little dog from the bag and showed him it as she sat next to his bed. "Look at this, Dad," she said. "Isn't he cute?"
His eyes moved slowly from her face to the dog. Lois took his good hand and laid it flat on the bed, palm up. She placed the dog in his hand and helped his fingers curl around it.
"Squeeze, Dad," she encouraged. "It will help keep the muscles in your hand and arm strong."
His hand didn't move, so Lois moved her attention from the stress ball to her father's face. "How are you, Dad? Ronny told me you're getting up today. That's exciting. Being in bed all day is so demoralising. And today, you have some new clothes to wear. How about I come a bit later tomorrow so I'll be able to see you in your new gear?"
She ran her fingertips along his lower arm and tried to imagine what question he would ask if he could.
"Work's going well, thanks, Dad," Lois said. She smiled. "You'll never guess what we did yesterday. I made a paper airplane - you know, just the way you taught me. We flew it from one side of the room to the other. It worked really well for a few flights, and then it crashed ... wheeeeeeee ..." She demonstrated the plane's demise with her hand. "... nose-first into the floor. It looked a bit crumpled after that ... but that man I told you about ... the one from the place far away ... he still managed to make it fly well. He probably knows a lot about things that fly."
Her words stopped as ideas zipped through her mind. Mr Kent had shown extraordinary skill with the paper plane. Had it been luck? Or did he really have knowledge of air ... *space*craft?
Lois pushed away what was just another question without an answer and continued chatting. "Anyway Dad, I'm going to Uncle Mike's for lunch today. Ronny didn't say if he's been in to see you yet. He probably has - I know he comes in early. After lunch, I'll be going to work. Maybe we'll fly paper planes again ... although I don't think so, because I have other plans for today - something I wanted to do yesterday."
Her gaze drifted from her dad's face and to his hand. His fingers were tightly clasping the stress ball. She eased them away. "That's great, Dad," she said. "Now, squeeze again."
His fingers curled around the ball.
Lois smiled. It was such a tiny step forward, but it felt so significant. The ball was in his right hand - which wasn't paralysed - but she felt as if they had achieved something together.
"Let go, Dad," she said.
His fingers straightened.
"Squeeze, Dad."
His fingers curled around the dog.
Lois stood and gently threw her arms around his shoulders. "That's great, Dad." She withdrew and looked into his face. "I know it doesn't seem like much," she said. "But we have to start somewhere, and this is fantastic. I'm so proud of you."
She touched her nose against his and then kissed his cheek.
Tears were pushing up into her eyes. Lois wasn't sure if they were happy tears because of the progress or sad tears because she'd gotten so excited over such a miniscule event. She didn't want her dad to see her tears, so she kissed him again. "I'll be back tomorrow," she promised. She replaced the chair against the wall. "I love you, Dad. Keep squeezing that dog."
She left his room, and couldn't hold back her tears any longer.
||_||
Lunch with Uncle Mike buoyed Lois's spirits. They ate together next to a wide sunlit window. The food was great - Lois had ordered the lasagne with a creamy tomato sauce. Uncle Mike was upbeat about Sam, believing that his brother had made definite progress during the past week.
Lois asked for a serving of lasagne to take away and couldn't help thinking of Mr Kent when she accepted the container from Uncle Mike and paid her tab.
She gave him a big hug and then left for Bessolo Boulevard.
As she let herself into the compound, Lois felt a strange assortment of emotions. There was some nervousness - she was going to *meet* Mr Kent today. It was blended with a touch of anxiety - she hadn't heard anything from either Longford or Shadbolt and had managed - with considerable difficulty - to refrain from calling them. She hoped everything had gone smoothly in her absence.
But mostly, she felt confident.
Good.
Assured.
She had been through the vacillation yesterday and had no intention of repeating it today.
She was going into Mr Kent's cell.
Her gut said it was the right thing to do.
Lois entered the compound. "Hi, Shadbolt," she called, hoping to deter him from coming to investigate the sound of her arrival.
She took her bag - with the racquet handle sticking out rather obviously - up to her office and shut the door behind her. Mr Kent was sitting against the back wall. He had folded the Daily Planet over his knees and, pen in hand, looked to be doing the crossword puzzle.
She glanced around the cell - everything seemed to be exactly as it should be.
Lois went down to the staffroom, carrying the takeout container of lasagne and a bottle of water. "Good afternoon," she said as she went to the closet and took out the rod. Shadbolt stood from the table and went to the closet.
Lois added a fork to the top of the container lid and handed it to Shadbolt. He eyed it doubtfully, but made no comment. She unlocked the door and stood back for Shadbolt to deposit the meal and water in the cell.
It was done quickly and efficiently.
Lois put the rod back in the closet. "Any problems during your shift?" she asked as she went to the coffee machine.
"No," Shadbolt said. "We gave him the bagel at six. He stayed on the far side of the cell."
Lois managed a tight smile. "Good," she said. "You can leave now if you want to."
"It's not even half past one yet," Shadbolt said.
Lois shrugged. "Whatever. I'm here. It doesn't need two of us." She poured milk into her coffee and headed for the stairs. "See you tomorrow."
She went into the office.
Five minutes later, she heard Shadbolt leave.
Lois took a deep breath. As soon as Mr Kent had finished his lunch, she was going into his cell.
||_||
He ate the meal, knowing it was delicious but barely tasting it.
She was back.
He was sure he'd heard her voice just before Shadbolt had opened the door and put the lunch on the floor.
She was here.
Shadbolt would go soon.
Then, maybe, she would come in and put a message on the floor. If she didn't, he would wait awhile, and then he would put a piece of paper near the door. She would see him do it ... and if Shadbolt was gone, she might come to collect his message.
He'd already made a new plane. Just in case.
||_||
While Mr Kent ate his lunch, Lois skimmed the tape from the morning.
He did the usual things. It started with breakfast - they didn't give him coffee, but he got the bagel - and then he washed with the water in the bowl that Shadbolt and Longford had provided. When Mr Kent started washing, Lois stopped the tape and forwarded it without watching.
Once it had whirred through half an hour, she hit 'play' again and continued fast forwarding. He did the usual things - stretching, push-ups, reading the paper. Then ...
She slowed the tape to normal speed.
She watched as Mr Kent tore a piece of paper from the notepad and carefully folded an elaborate version of a paper airplane.
Once it was done, he spent half a minute gazing at it, and then he hid it under one of the old newspapers.
Lois continued to the end of the tape. Nothing of note happened.
She rewound it to the beginning and turned off the television.
Mr Kent had finished his lunch. He brushed his teeth and used water from his bottle to wash his face and hands. He even tried to finger-comb his hair but gave up when it became obvious that he was achieving very little.
It was almost as if he were preparing for company.
He couldn't be expecting her ... surely.
Once he'd finished his 'preparations', he went to his place against the back wall and continued with the crossword puzzle.
Lois filled her lungs and slowly released the air.
She felt good.
Ready.
"Let's do it, King," she muttered as she locked her office door. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she checked that the external door was locked.
She strode to the cell door and slipped the key into the lock.
She was sure about this.
And it felt so very good to be sure. Confident. Decisive. Strong.
She turned the key, pushed the door open, and dragged a chair into the doorway.
When the door had been secured by the chair, Lois looked across the cell.
Mr Kent was watching her.
Their eyes collided.
The newspaper slid from his lap, unnoticed.
Lois stood still, her heart exploding and her breath coming in sharp jabs.
She took a step. Then another one. And another.
Mr Kent hadn't moved - not so much as a fingertip. His eyes were wide and fastened on her.
She reached the middle of the cell. About where the plane had crash-landed.
She saw him swallow and without deliberate intention, copied his action.
It had little effect. Her mouth felt like she had sucked in a sand dune.
Lois took another step. She estimated that she had four more to go.
Three.
Two.
One.
The final step, and she stopped a few inches from his feet. He was looking up at her, his eyes dark, his shoulders rigid, his forearms flexed, his knuckles gnarled, his face - what she could see under the beard - a frozen mask.
He wasn't smiling.
He looked stunned. As if he couldn't believe she was here.
Lois wasn't sure she believed it either.
She took a craggy breath.
She swallowed.
Opened her mouth.
"I'm Lois," she said.
He blinked a couple of times. He swallowed again - rough and scratchy - and hauled in a trembly breath.
"I'm Clark," he said.
